


Some Good for You and Me

by patchfire



Series: Queer Historical AU [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, F/M, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism, references to historical events and attitudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 05:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/896617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the years between 1966 and 1969, the United States is changing. Still, in Lima, Ohio, the smartest thing a young homosexual can do is keep his head down, go on chaste dates, join the football team, and not speak too loudly about his politics. He can also hope that he might find someone else to share his secret with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sophomore Year

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, thank you to the lovely [Narya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/narya) for the art and chapter headers. 
> 
> Because this work is set during the late 1960s, there are some changes to canon. The most notable, perhaps, is ignoring that there are people in the 'Glee' world who are neither white nor black, but Asian, Indian, or Hispanic. In the late 1960s in Lima, Ohio, it's unlikely that any of them would have been in Lima, based on census data, and for the most part, this fic glosses over that fact and any issues that would have been raised. There is mention of the civil rights movement and the anti-war protests of those years. 
> 
> The downloadable writing playlist for this story can be found [here](https://www.dropbox.com/s/66ubxqaxc1ivo21/SomeGoodForYouAndMe.zip), selections and cover by [raving_liberal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal), who knows I need inspirational writing playlists.

  
_I’ve always known I was different. I realized I was different around the same time I realized that different was not, in fact, good. It wasn’t something I wanted to be, especially not in the town of Lima, Ohio. Boys born in 1951 were not supposed to like the things I liked: namely, other boys. Nothing else I did or enjoyed particularly mattered, not as long as I carried that secret. At the beginning of my sophomore year at William McKinley Senior High School, I tried out for the varsity football team. I became a starter. I joined the chorus. I found my ways to look normal. I found my ways so that no one would guess I was a homosexual, or so I hoped._

 

“The unintelligible Bob Dylan, yet again,” Kurt says with a roll of his eyes as he enters the locker room. Just like nearly every day before football practice, Puckerman is sitting there with his guitar trying to approximate Bob Dylan. It makes Kurt thankful that Mr. Schuester doesn’t let them do Bob Dylan during chorus practice, even now with so many members of the competition chorus also being football players. Kurt’s one of them; all he has to do is kick, and he’s suddenly a football player, with all the protections thereof. Finn Hudson, Matt Rutherford, Mike Chang, and Noah Puckerman all joining competition chorus help even more. 

Puckerman stops and glares at Kurt, then puts the guitar aside. “Can it, Kurt.” He brushes his hair out of his eyes, and Kurt is a little surprised Puckerman’s not had a forced haircut yet. Lima City Schools are more concerned than ever with dress code this year, including haircuts for the ‘young men’ of the high school. The movement against the Vietnam War gaining steam and racial unrest in the national news seem to make Principal Figgins convinced that the right haircut and the right clothing can hold off trouble setting in at William McKinley Senior High School. 

Noah Puckerman is one of the prime candidates for ‘trouble’, Kurt is sure. His usual offenses are untucked shirts and hair past his collar, and Kurt realizes with a start that Noah Puckerman could perhaps portray Bob Dylan without too much trouble. Kurt opens his locker and starts changing for practice, and two rows over, he can hear Puckerman doing the same. The next day is chorus practice instead of football, and Kurt fervently wishes that chorus practiced as often after school as football, and football as rarely. Still, football keeps him safe: safe from the pranks, safe from his father’s questioning glances, and safe from whispers. 

Kurt slams his locker shut and picks up his helmet, the cleats echoing in the locker room as other players start to enter. He hears Puckerman talking to Finn Hudson, then someone else, saying only “Watch the guitar!” to whomever the second player is. Kurt walks onto the field and puts on his helmet before Coach Tanaka can positively identify him; he is thankful every day for the practice jerseys that don’t have their names on the back. Usually, Kurt does laps and stretches with the team, then goes to the side to practice kicking on his own, unless there’s a scrimmage, and it’s that pattern that lets him feel okay about football. He wants to leave practice, to go home and read the _Playbill_ that came in the mail the day before. He hadn’t read it immediately, though; he’d dutifully read the _Sports Illustrated_ that had also arrived, then had studied for his biology test. _Playbill_ is his Wednesday reward, for getting through three football practices and everything else. 

The only downside to Kurt’s usual practice pattern is that he isn’t really part of the team. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that none of his teammates are the people he wants to be close friends with. It’s a little bit of a lie, though; he’s not sure he wants to be friends with any of them, except perhaps the chorus boys, but he does wish they wanted him to be friends with them. 

 

“Kurt, do you have a minute after rehearsal?” Mr. Schuester asks when Kurt walks into the chorus room the next afternoon, and Kurt nods. Mr. Schuester smiles, looking strangely relieved, and Kurt takes his assigned seat. He knows he’s unlikely to get a solo in competition, but he finds most of the pieces they do to be fun. Usually the girls sing and the boys harmonize, or vice versa, but occasionally they do a true group number. Kurt wishes they’d do some a cappella numbers, but he and Rachel Berry are the only two who even want to try. 

Rachel smiles at Kurt almost shyly when she walks into the room, and Kurt returns the smile. “You should ask her out,” Artie says from his space beside Kurt. 

“What?” Kurt says, startled, and he turns to really look at Artie. Artie’s probably his best friend, though they don’t really have much in common anymore besides competition chorus and French class. 

“Rachel. She likes you.” Artie grins at Kurt. “Maybe you could get voice lessons from her mom if the two of you were dating.”

“I would not date Rachel Berry just to get a voice lesson with Shelby Corcoran Berry,” Kurt protests, hissing under his breath, and Artie laughs. 

“Not just that, right? You should ask her to the Homecoming Dance. Or is there a rule that football players can only date cheerleaders?”

Kurt looks guiltily at Artie’s wheelchair. Kurt trying out for the football team, and subsequently making varsity, has probably put more distance between himself and Artie than any other development in senior high. “No, no cheerleader requirement,” Kurt answers. “Thank goodness.” 

“Aww, Brittany’s a sweet girl,” Artie protests, looking to the girls’ section of the chorus room. Brittany, Santana, and Quinn, all cheerleaders, had joined chorus even before the football players, excepting Finn. Quinn had promptly disappeared for two weeks after that, helping her older sister in Chicago who had unexpectedly fallen ill. “But if you don’t date a cheerleader, that leaves me a chance.”

Kurt laughs, trying to make sure his voice doesn’t go too high. “That’s exactly why, Artie.”

During their mid-rehearsal break, Rachel walks over to Kurt, handing him a glass of water. “I really enjoyed your harmonizing during ‘Getting to Know You’, Kurt.”

“Oh, well. Thank you,” Kurt responds, taking the water with a small smile. “You seemed like you were really enjoying ‘Please Mr. Postman’.”

“I was!” Rachel beams at him. 

“So, Rachel,” Kurt says uncertainly. “Would you—I mean, I understand completely if the answer is no—would you like to come to the Dairy King after the game on Friday night? With me, I mean?” The entire team, the cheerleaders, and all of their dates always go to the Dairy King, which means if Kurt can’t stand even an hour or so with Rachel, pretending to enjoy dating her, he can probably escape or introduce her to someone else with relative ease. If it goes well, and she doesn’t ask for too much, he can think about the Homecoming Dance. A girlfriend who doesn’t want too much from him wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him. 

“Oh, no, I would love to!” Rachel’s smile gets even brighter. “That sounds like so much fun. Maybe you’ll kick the game-winning field goal tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow. Right, yes, Friday is tomorrow!” Kurt laughs at himself, inwardly starting to cringe. Just one day to figure out how to act like a normal boy would. 

By the end of rehearsal, Kurt has worked himself into a full-scale bout of panic, and it isn’t until Mr. Schuester waves him over that Kurt remembers Mr. Schuester had wanted to talk to him. 

“Kurt, just a minute,” Mr. Schuester says warmly, then turns to the piano player. “Thank you, Brad.”

“Yes, thank you,” Kurt echoes, never having thought about how the piano player must feel, repeating the same songs ad nauseam while they perfect their parts. 

“Kurt, I know you’re a busy young man,” Mr. Schuester begins. “But Coach Tanaka and I were trying to solve a mutual dilemma when your name came up.”

“Oh?” Kurt can’t imagine what sort of mutual dilemma the chorus sponsor and Spanish teacher would have with the physical education instructor who coaches the state’s worst football team. 

“Noah Puckerman is in danger of being declared ineligible for extracurricular activities, including competition chorus and football, due to his academic performance. He needs a tutor, and of all the students who share his activities and his classes, you by far have the best performance yourself. Would you be willing to tutor him?”

Mr. Schuester is asking, but Kurt feels like there’s only one answer he can give, no matter how much he’s uncertain about it. Puckerman is civil enough to him, he supposes, now that they are doubly teammates, but he’s sure he’s not Puckerman’s first choice in a tutor. Kurt nods, Mr. Schuester’s eyes on him. 

“Of course, Mr. Schuester. Does he know I’ll be tutoring him?”

“He has a meeting with Coach Tanaka right now.” Mr. Schuester smiles hugely. “Coach was going to suggest the two of you meet before school at the library, so you could set up a schedule.”

“That’s fine.” Kurt picks up his books and manages another smile. 

“Thank you, Kurt,” Mr. Schuester says warmly. “Coach and I really appreciate it, and I’m sure Noah will as well.” None of the teachers, not even Mr. Schuester, call Puckerman by his self-appointed nickname of ‘Puck’. 

“Of course.” Kurt walks slowly out of the building, thankful that it’s not a long walk to his father’s auto repair shop. Puckerman will probably be anything but appreciative. Kurt can’t imagine what they have in common, aside from football, which Kurt actually detests, competition chorus, and single parents. Puckerman’s dad actually left, though, abandoned his entire family and left them more poor than they had started. Kurt’s mother had died after a very brief bout of cancer that had proved untreatable. It’s still only three things in common, and Kurt expects a negative attitude from Puckerman about needing tutoring in the first place. 

 

Kurt asks his dad to drop him off at school twenty minutes early, which invites an entire round of questioning. Kurt plays up that Puckerman is also on the football team, plays down that he’s also a member of chorus, and finally Kurt is dropped off with an approving smile from his dad. It’s more than Kurt feels like he deserves, most days; he knows that despite joining the football team, he’s not the athletic and popular son that his father wants. 

Despite arriving early, Kurt is certain that Puckerman won’t be there before the first bell, if at all; when he sees Puckerman leaning against the wall, plucking out chords on his guitar, Kurt actually stops in his track. 

“Kurt.” Puckerman looks up and nods at him. “Tanaka said you’re willing to tutor me?”

“Yes. If you’re willing to try, and not skip so many classes.”

“Can’t promise that last one. Sometimes there’s more important things to do.”

“What, exactly, is more important?”

Puckerman shrugs. “I just don’t think I’m going to dissect a lot of frogs in my life. I might need to know how to do more practical things.”

“Ah.” Kurt scowls, because he had the same thought about the frogs they were required to dissect two weeks earlier. “Let’s decide on a schedule.”

“Sure.” Puckerman stands up and heads into the library. “You’re taking Rachel Berry out tonight?”

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“She told all the other girls in chorus. Santana’s been trying to convince me to take her out on a date, so she brought me some notes from class, supposedly. Told me then.”

“You don’t want to date Santana?” Kurt asks, surprised. 

“One of the guys on the team wants to date her. Not just date her, he wants to take her home and introduce her to his parents over Sunday dinner or whatever.” Puckerman shakes his head. “It wouldn’t be cool of me to date her.”

“Oh. I’ll remember that.” He pauses. “Who are you dating?”

“Susan Novakowski.”

“I don’t know her?”

“She’s a junior. The Cheerio with the black hair and the bangs.” Puckerman shrugs. “It won’t last.”

“Oh?” Kurt doesn’t quite understand whatever it is Puckerman is trying to communicate.

“I’m Jewish,” Puckerman says blandly. “No one wants their daughter to marry a Jew.”

“Oh. Yes. That. I suppose I did just stake a claim on one of your only options, didn’t I?”

Puckerman laughs for so long that Kurt starts to look behind him, to see if something else is making him laugh. He finally sobers and shakes his head. “Rachel Berry will go back east to that school her mom attended. She’ll marry a good Jewish boy from New York or Connecticut. Not anyone from Lima, and definitely not someone like me. We’re good. As long as _you_ don’t want to marry her.”

“That hadn’t crossed my mind as a possibility, even,” Kurt admits. “I was just pleased she wouldn’t be asking me to attend church on Sunday mornings.”

“That’s right, you and your dad don’t go.” Puckerman nods slowly. “I’ve heard people talk about that. The Bachelor Hummels.”

Kurt shrugs. “Mom died. Dad was angry and I was indifferent. Now we’re both indifferent to the actual religion, but neither of us enjoys the church ladies trying to set dad up with widows from other towns.”

“No, I don’t guess you would.” Puckerman pulls out a dirty and battered pocket calendar. “Can we meet every day? I’m really behind.”

“Already? It’s only the beginning of October, Puckerman.”

Puckerman looks almost sheepish as he meets Kurt’s eyes. “I started out the year behind.”

“Very well.” Kurt pulls out his own calendar and scans it. “I can do five days a week. Sunday through Thursday. We can meet on Friday mornings, like this, if you need last minute review before a test.”

“That’s cool.” Puckerman frowns. “After practice? Not on Sunday, I mean, but otherwise?”

“Yes, or after dinner. And Sunday we could start around 10:30 or 11. Since neither of us will be attending church.”

Puckerman laughs. “Good point. I should come to your house?”

“Yes, let me get you the address.”

“No need.” Puckerman stands up and grins. “I’ve been there before.”

“Let me guess, you were one of the idiots who toilet papered my house the last week of eighth grade?” Kurt asks with a sigh. 

“Hey, we toilet papered all the houses we could walk to that night. It’s not my fault you were within walking distance, Kurt.” 

“Of course not.” Kurt had spent the better part of a week assuring his dad that no, Kurt wasn’t being targeted by ne’er-do-wells in junior high. His dad doesn’t know about the occasional teasing, and he doesn’t need to, especially not now that it’s stopped. 

  


Kurt puts his calendar away and walks with Puckerman to first period English, which they share. They share a number of classes, actually, which means it really does make sense for him to tutor Puckerman. As Kurt walks, he thinks about his dad. His dad is clearly pleased for Kurt to be on the football team, and Kurt realizes that over dinner, before the game, he needs to make sure and tell his dad that he’s going to the Dairy King not just with the team, but with Rachel. She might not be the most popular girl in school, but she’s a girl, and Kurt supposes she’s pretty enough. Kurt just wants to seem to be normal, especially for his dad, and noticing how Puckerman’s hair curls over his ears, how Finn Hudson’s hands could almost encircle Kurt’s waist, and a million other tiny things about the boys that Kurt goes to school with – Kurt knows that noticing those things isn’t normal at all. 

 

Kurt has to wonder if Rachel is a bit prophetic, since he does in fact score the winning field goal against Lima Central Catholic on Friday evening. It means that it takes longer than usual for him to get to the locker room after the game, but it also means he finds himself with three different juniors offering him a ride to the Dairy King. He squeezes into the back of one car, Rachel on one side and Puckerman on the other, while Finn Hudson, Quinn Fabray, and the junior, whose name Kurt can’t remember, all sit up front. 

The ride to the Dairy King is loud and jovial, and no one expects Kurt to do anything with Rachel other than sit beside her, all of them more or less stuck in place due to the number of people squeezed into the car. The Dairy King is not appreciably less crowded, but Kurt does sit with Rachel at a small table, both of them sipping milkshakes. 

“This is so exciting,” Rachel says, looking around the Dairy King, which is at least ninety percent high school students. “I’ve never come here after a game,” she admits. “I like to go to the games, but it’s not something—” She cuts herself off and takes another sip of her milkshakes. 

“I hadn’t until I joined the team,” Kurt agrees, and when Rachel turns her hand up on the table, he forces himself to take it. Rachel soon loses interest in studying the rest of the Dairy King and starts talking about the duet she and her mother sang, while her father was away for the week in Columbus. 

Hiram Berry is one of the reasons that Kurt wants to avoid the whispers and wants to leave Lima when he finishes high school. As long as Kurt can remember, there have been rumors, whispers, and even pranks carried out at the Berry home. Rachel’s mother, Shelby Corcoran Berry, was a professional singer for several years before she married Hiram Berry and they settled down in Lima, but the rumors still persist that Hiram is actually a homosexual, and that his business trips involve more than business. Kurt doesn’t ask Rachel about it, but he finds Hiram Berry a source of hope and despair. Hope, that there’s someone else in Lima who isn’t normal, and despair, that he too could end up like Hiram Berry. 

Still, singing and theatre are interests that Rachel and Kurt share, and when their milkshakes are finished and Hiram Berry arrives to pick Rachel up, she doesn’t expect a kiss. She squeezes Kurt’s hand, tells him she had a wonderful time, and concludes with a promise to see him at rehearsal on Monday. 

Kurt pays for their milkshakes after Rachel leaves, then uses the payphone to call his dad. As he stands outside the Dairy King, pulling his jacket closed, he decides that it would be relatively easy to maintain a relationship with Rachel. He has no romantic interest in her whatsoever, but the amount of contact they would have if they were dating would be approximately how much he thinks he’d like to talk to her. If she can continue to not expect even a chaste kiss for some time, and then perhaps a few months or more of just being kissed on the cheek, Kurt thinks he can maintain the charade. Especially if Puckerman is right, that Rachel Berry will leave Lima for greener pastures, then there will be no expectations of a senior year engagement. The class of 1966 graduated with fully half of the girls engaged, as far as Kurt could tell; he doesn’t want to be put in a position where a girl is expecting a question and a ring from him. 

 

After three tutoring sessions, two more after-school football practices, and two during-school chorus rehearsals, Kurt finds that he’s almost getting used to Puckerman addressing him in a somewhat friendly manner. By extension, he’s greeted in the hallways by the rest of the singing football players, and on Wednesday, Puckerman and Finn Hudson wave him over to their lunch table. Kurt purses his lips and glances at Artie, apparently long enough that Puckerman and Finn notice, because a moment later, Artie’s being waved over as well. As Kurt settles down and unpacks his lunch, he realizes that at least amongst the rest of the singing football players, Puckerman’s need for tutoring isn’t a secret. 

“Wow, that lunch looks great,” Finn says to Kurt, and Kurt feels himself start to color. If Kurt allowed himself to notice such things, allowed himself to think about things of a romantic nature, he knows that Finn Hudson would take a prominent place in his thoughts. He doesn’t let himself do those things, but his self-awareness is still present. 

“We have a housekeeper,” Kurt confesses. “I’ve told Dad it’s really not necessary for her to make my lunch daily now, but I think he likes to forget how old I am.”

“My mom’s the same way.” Finn nods. “But maybe I’ll ask her to hire your housekeeper!”

“Their house is really clean, considering they’re the Bachelor Hummels,” Puckerman says. 

“Again, the housekeeper, Puckerman,” Kurt says. 

“Do you still have to do chores?” Finn asks, and beside Kurt, Artie laughs slightly. 

“I still help Dad around the house and the shop, yes.”

“Too bad.”

“Here, here!” The entire table, it seems, would be glad to be done with chores, and the conversation shifts to the weekend’s upcoming game against Findlay and then onto the rumor that Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Schuester are swingers, which Kurt personally doesn’t believe. He’s read about swingers, of course, but it seems much more like something in a big city, not Ohio, not even a large city in Ohio. 

Everyone slowly gets up as they finish, and Finn offers to push Artie to their next class, Spanish. Kurt slowly collects his trash and realizes it’s just him and Puckerman left at the table. 

“So, Kurt, are you my teacher or my friend?”

“Excuse me?”

Puckerman laughs. “My friends call me Puck, the teachers call me Noah. Nobody calls me Puckerman but you.”

“I wanted to be unique?” Kurt offers uncertainly, and Puck laughs again, good-naturedly. 

“Seriously, what’s it going to be?”

“I suppose I can try to call you Puck.”

“Cool. I’ll see you at practice, Kurt.”

“See you then. Puck.” Puck waves and goes off to his auto shop class, the only class he seems to attend without skipping. Kurt concedes that if he hadn’t grown up in his dad’s auto repair shop, he would have found auto shop equally important. As it is, Kurt needs to find a way to convince Puck that the remainder of his classes are at least half as important. 

 

“Your arithmetic was your downfall in this problem,” Kurt says to Puck, looking over his Algebra I assignment. “Eight times seven is not fifty-one.”

“Right.” Puck nods a little. “I knew that.”

“Hmm. I find it curious how you have higher grades in history than English. Your math and science grades are close to the same, as I might expect, and your Spanish grade is frankly abysmal.” Kurt puts down Puck’s test and looks at him. “Do you have a particular attachment to Spanish?”

“Uh. No?”

“Really, if it’s not too late to drop it, you should. You could register for French next year. My understanding of Spanish stops at the point your class is now studying, and while Artie is also in Spanish, it’s one of his worst subjects.”

“You take French?”

“Yes, I’m in French II this year.”

“So if I took French, you could tutor me in that, too.”

“Yes. But I strongly suggest that you wait until next year, because I have the strangest feeling when I look at your work.”

“What?” Puck immediately looks suspicious, and Kurt points to his test again. 

“Have you had years that you passed, but you were surprised?”

“Well, yeah.” Puck shrugs. “The year my father left, I guess is when it started. I missed some school, and then the teacher had a conference with my mom about how I wasn’t concentrating or something. Which, yeah, sorry, I was worried about my mom and my sister!” he says, sounding as defensive as Kurt imagines he did in whatever elementary school classroom. 

“I think we have to go back to where you first stopped mastering the material. Arithmetic, spelling, grammar. Your history teacher doesn’t count off as much for those mistakes, and I think that’s why your history grade is your best. You also have conceptual understanding of algebra, but mistakes in your arithmetic.”

“What’s the catch?”

Kurt sighs. “I can’t promise you’ll see an immediate improvement in your grades. Enough to keep you eligible, yes, we’ll manage that somehow. Your auto shop grade is high but could be higher, so I’ll help you with that. Keep on Coach Tanaka’s good side and Mr. Schuester’s, so you’ll have three good grades to balance out the poorer ones.”

“So, what, you’re saying that long-term, I’ll have better grades? But not now?”

“Essentially, yes.”

Puck scowls and paces around Kurt’s bedroom for several minutes, clearly thinking in the silence, before he finally turns to Kurt. “I don’t know why I’m agreeing to this, but okay. I’ll try it.”

“Excellent.”

“And, hey, you should consider being a teacher,” Puck offers, sitting back down. Kurt smiles and shakes his head. He might enjoy teaching, but he wouldn’t enjoy the fear of being discovered, the constant need to keep himself separate from his students, just in case. The few stories he has found about people like him often involve accusations of impropriety with minors, and Kurt doesn’t want to open himself up to those. 

 

Kurt smoothes his shirt down and stares at himself into the mirror. Three weeks and one day after their first excursion to the Dairy King, he is about to escort Rachel Berry to the Homecoming Dance, one day after helping the football team win their homecoming game, and one week before they and the rest of chorus will be performing at Invitationals with ten other chorus groups from schools near Lima. Most of the groups don’t compete, which means its one of their few public performances; for New Directions, it’s a preview of hopefully three competition performances that year. 

The Homecoming Dance, however, Kurt could do without, especially the portion of the evening where he and his father will drive to the Berrys’ to pick up Rachel, and he will spend most of the evening acting as a dutiful boyfriend. They aren’t exactly officially going steady, but Kurt knows everyone assumes he’ll make it official either at the Dance or by Monday morning. 

“Rachel Berry, huh?” Burt says as Kurt climbs into the backseat, and Kurt nods. 

“Yes, Rachel.”

“Her mom brings in their car to the shop. She’s a real nice lady,” Burt says, “but Kurt, you know they’re Jewish?” 

“Yes, I know,” Kurt says, and doesn’t finish the sentence, that that is in fact part of Rachel’s appeal, if he has to have a girlfriend. “At least she’s not asking us to come back to church?”

Burt chuckles. “That’s a good point, son. A real good point. I know we don’t go to church, and I don’t have anything against Jews. I know you’re getting to be friends with the Puckerman boy, and he needs good friends. But I guess I’m a little worried about you dating her.”

“We’re having fun dating, Dad, but I don’t think either of us is looking at it as seriously as some of our classmates.” He pauses, trying to put it some way other than ‘I definitely will not marry her or any other woman’. “Rachel looks forward to attending her mother’s alma mater in New York State, after she finishes at McKinley.”

“That’s right, Mrs. Berry went to one of those eastern schools.” Burt nods, looking relieved at Kurt’s statement. “I remember that now. Well, that’s good that you and Rachel enjoy each other’s company. Makes things like tonight’s dance more fun, doesn’t it?”

Kurt manages a smile and a nod as they approach the Berry house, and he leaves the same smile plastered on as he and Rachel pose so the Berrys can take a picture. Finally, they leave, Rachel clinging to his arm as he escorts her to the car. 

Despite himself, Kurt has fun at the dance. Despite their different social circles prior to joining chorus, the twelve of them, even the Cheerios, have started to become friends, and they claim two adjoining tables for the evening. Finn is with Quinn, of course, Kurt with Rachel, and Puck with Susan; everyone else is just attending solo, hanging out with their group of friends. Kurt does notice Mercedes and Matt sitting together, and he frowns, knowing it has little to do with any interest in each other and everything to do with not wanting to be perceived as being interested in someone who isn’t also black. 

Racial tensions in Lima simmer under the surface; Kurt doesn’t hear his dad speak much about it, not even when Martin Luther King Jr. is on the evening news, but over the past two or three years, Kurt’s been slowly forming his own opinions. Being on the football team with Matt and Azimio Adams and Anthony Rashad, as well as being in chorus with Matt and Mercedes, has made him wonder _why_ so many people are still stuck in the past. He understands that things are changing, in terms of the laws and people’s attitudes, but Kurt can’t quite understand why people’s attitudes are taking so long. Even his dad, the few times he does make a comment, seems to think that things are moving ‘too fast’. Maybe it seems fast to his dad, but Burt overall is more upset by the anti-war movement, and sometimes Kurt thinks that his dad is okay with the tutoring under the impression that Kurt can bring Puck back from the anti-war side. 

Kurt knows that won’t happen; so far, he and Puck haven’t really discussed the war. If they do, though, he knows it’s far more likely Puck will bring Kurt over to his side, because in the end, Kurt doesn’t want to go fight in a war. 

 

“I can’t believe that woman,” Kurt says to Puck as they leave McKinley on a Thursday, walking towards Kurt’s house. The November wind is cold, and he buttons his coat as they walk. Puck, for his part, shoves his hands into his pockets and bends his head into the wind. “Why does the cheerleading coach care if the chorus practices?”

“She’s probably bitter that she’s wasted the past ten or fifteen years of her life on cheerleading,” Puck says, snickering. “I mean, c’mon. She’s a cheerleading coach in Lima, Ohio!”

Kurt laughs too, even though it feels almost wrong to gossip about a teacher and laugh at her, even if she is one of the meanest at McKinley and, apparently, out to bring down the chorus. “That is true.”

“Anyway, her complaints won’t hold up.” Puck shrugs. “You want to get burgers with everyone tomorrow before the game?”

“I can’t,” Kurt says regretfully, and it surprises him that the regret is real. “Friday night is the one night Dad makes an effort to be home by dinner, and the two of us eat together.”

“Yeah?” Puck looks thoughtful for a minute. “You know, I know you hate the church ladies setting him up with widows, but maybe you should introduce him to Mrs. Hudson.”

“Finn’s mother?” Kurt asks incredulously. “Why?”

“Mrs. Hudson’s awesome,” Puck says. “And she’d make him eat dinner with you more than one night a week, for starters. I mean, hey, you’d get a brother out of it!”

“That’s true,” Kurt says, still skeptical. “It would be good for Dad to have someone around after I leave.”

“Leave?” 

“I’m not staying in Lima,” Kurt says firmly. “Not after high school.”

“Oh, right, yeah, yeah. I understand you completely.” Puck nods a little. “See? Think about it. He could sit with her at the game tomorrow night. Want me to introduce them, since I know them both?”

“Do _not_ tell them you’re setting them up!” Kurt protests, and Puck laughs. 

“Mrs. Hudson will know I am, but it’s okay. She won’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.”

Kurt gives his somewhat dubious consent, but when halftime rolls around the next evening, his father is engaged in conversation with a relatively attractive woman who does somewhat resemble Finn. 

“Is that my mom? Who’s that man she’s talking to?” Finn says behind Kurt, and Kurt wheels around. 

“That’s my dad, and that was your best friend’s matchmaking plan.”

“Puck? Seriously?” Finn looks stunned, then laughs and shakes his head. “Hey, if they hit it off, we could be brothers, Kurt!”

“I think it’s a little premature to plan the wedding,” Kurt says, but he grins back at Finn regardless. 

“No, look, my mom looks really _happy_ ,” Finn says more softly. “It’s pretty awesome. Your dad looks happy too.”

“He does,” Kurt has to agree, and he nods to himself as he follows Finn into the locker room for Coach Tanaka’s attempt at a halftime pep talk. It falls flat, as it usually does, but Kurt notices more talking during it than usual. By the time they return from the field, losing by a mere ten points, the entire football team not only knows about Kurt’s dad and Finn’s mom, but have decided to throw Kurt and Finn an impromptu party of sorts, which mostly involves Puck’s guitar and a lot of yelling. 

It takes Kurt ages to get done in the locker room, and when he finally leaves, the only people still around are himself, Finn, and Puck, and outside the locker room, Quinn and Rachel. The girls were perhaps the strangest friendship to come out of chorus, in Kurt’s opinion; Quinn had been mean to Rachel until the day Rachel happily had announced she and Kurt were officially together, and Kurt had concluded that Quinn had seen Rachel as a threat to her relationship with Finn. Susan is notably not standing with the other two girls, and Kurt raises an eyebrow in Puck’s direction. 

Puck shrugs. “Told you wouldn’t last too long.”

“I suppose you did,” Kurt acknowledges. 

“Plenty of fish in the sea, though,” Puck says with a grin, and the five of them walk towards the parking lot, where Mr. Fabray is waiting to drive all of them to the Dairy King. 

 

Rachel is wailing, and ten other students, plus Mr. Schuester, are all glaring at Kurt, expecting him to fix it, because he’s her boyfriend. He can feel a shudder run through him. This isn’t what he wanted! Rachel is supposed to be low-maintenance, in terms of things she wants that he can’t or won’t give. Yes, she loves Broadway, but so does Kurt, and if they act more like best friends than boyfriend and girlfriend, Rachel doesn’t seem to mind. She ‘allows’ him to kiss her on the cheek, they go out once a week, and occasionally Kurt carries her books for her. 

But now they’re at the Western Ohio Sectionals, and while initially they were thrilled to be the last of four choruses to perform, the first two choruses each performed one song from New Directions’ chosen set list. Rachel is convinced that the next competitor will do another one of their songs, and Kurt thinks that in this case, Rachel is most likely correct. 

“We’ll come up with a new set list,” Kurt declares, and all of them make faces. 

“Yeah. Yeah, we will,” Finn agrees. “What’s something that we all had fun singing before now?”

“The girls should do ‘My Boyfriend’s Back’,” Rachel says, looking scarily determined now that action has been decided upon, and Kurt takes a step back. “Mr. Schuester?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Mr. Schuester agrees. “The girls can open our set with that.”

“The boys can do ‘The Way You Do The Thing You Do’,” Artie suggests. “Right?”

“Yeah, that’s awesome, Artie,” Finn says, and the other four of them nod their agreement, along with Mr. Schuester.

“Everyone likes The Beatles,” Mercedes says. “What about the arrangement we did of ‘Do You Want to Know A Secret’?”

“Perfect!” Mr. Schuester agrees, smiling widely. “All of you did it. I’m so proud of you. The second half is about to start, and we’re going to sing well and clearly. Let’s go represent McKinley, New Directions!”

Rachel’s prediction is correct: the third group performs the third of the songs from their original set list. The twelve of them sit almost calmly, though; Rachel whispers a few directions to the girls, Finn and Artie have a conversation about something, and then it’s their turn, all of them walking onto the risers. 

Rachel starts them off with the lead vocal for ‘My Boyfriend’s Back’, all six of the girls blending together well on the song. 

_Hey la, hey la my boyfriend's back_  
 _You’ve been spreadin’ lies that I was untrue_  
 _Hey la, hey la my boyfriend’s back_  
 _Look out now cause he’s comin’ after you_  
 _Hey la, hey la my boyfriend’s back_

Part of Rachel’s instructions must have been some impromptu choreography, as all six of them point to Puck, Mike, and Artie as the ‘liar’, then Kurt, Finn, and Matt as the ‘boyfriend’. The audience and, more importantly, the judges, appear to enjoy the song, and Kurt nervously straightens his tie as they shift into the Temptations number. Since they’ve only done the song a handful of times, the six of them had quickly agreed not to give anyone a solo, but to share the lead and harmonies in varying combinations throughout the song. Kurt only has the lead portions on the chorus, harmonizing on the verses. 

_Well, you could have been anything that you wanted to_  
 _And I can tell, the way you do the things you do_

Kurt doesn’t think the audience response is quite as huge or positive for the boys’ number, but they all rearrange themselves a final time to begin the last number. Finn speaks the opening lines before they all start to sing. 

_Listen, do you want to know a secret?_  
 _Do you promise not to tell? whoa oh, oh._

_Closer, let me whisper in your ear,_  
 _Say the words you long to hear,_  
 _I’m in love with you._

The audience actually applauds longer for them than any of the other three groups, and they calmly walk off the risers before the master of ceremonies introduces someone from the Dayton television station to entertain them while the judges deliberate. 

It takes far longer than Kurt likes before they invite all four groups on stage. The risers have been moved and each group clusters together, holding hands in a clump. Kurt isn’t sure who has his hand; he’s relatively certain that one hand is Rachel’s, but the other one feels more masculine, and he wonders if one of the other boys thinks that Kurt’s hand is a girl’s hand. 

Kurt doesn’t have time to contemplate it any further, however, because the judges start announcing the winners. They begin with third place, then second, and Kurt feels his stomach sink. Either they won, or they placed very last. 

“And the winners of the 1966 Western Ohio Sectional Choral Competition are the New Directions, from—”

Kurt’s sure that he’s reading out what school and town they are from, but he doesn’t hear that, not as the twelve of them cheer and hug each other, hands squeezing before they are dropped. 

“Congratulations to the New Directions,” the master of ceremonies continues when they quiet down, “who will compete in March in Columbus at the 1967 Ohio Regional Choral Competition.” He presents Mr. Schuester with a trophy, and then they pose for a newspaper photograph and give their names to the reporter. Rachel is briefly interviewed, which leaves her nearly giddy as they pack up their things and load them. 

“I can’t believe we not only came up with a new set list, but we won!” Rachel gushes. Everyone is still happy, riding the win, and Kurt isn’t surprised somehow when he ends up sitting behind Puck and Finn on the drive to Lima. On the trip north, they stop outside Sidney for dinner, and finally, two hours after leaving Dayton, they arrive in Lima. 

“Hey, hang on a sec,” Kurt hears Puck say to Finn, then Puck appears beside Kurt. “Let’s make it 11:30 tomorrow?”

Kurt laughs tiredly. “Yes, we’re definitely sleeping in.”

 

“I hate Valentine’s Day,” Finn says at lunch about a week before the holiday, and Kurt nods his agreement. 

“That’s why I’m glad Linda broke things off last week,” Puck says, shrugging carelessly. “No need to spend a bunch of money—that I don’t have—on a girl who barely lets me hold her hand.”

“Quinn’s the same way. Not about hand-holding, but other stuff.” Finn looks at Kurt. “What about you and Rachel?”

“Rachel allows me the great privilege of kissing her on the lips— no tongue,” Kurt says dryly, and the slight disdain in his voice must sound more like frustration with Rachel, because the table laughs sympathetically. 

“Not even worth trying for anything more, is it?” Puck says sadly, shaking his head and looking at Kurt. “So much for that sexual revolution stuff in _Time_ magazine.”

“No revolution here,” Finn agrees, and everyone at the table nods. Kurt breathes a small sigh of relief; he knows what he’s supposed to want, but luckily the girls are the ones enforcing the rules, and so he’s viewed as just another one of the boys. 

“What did your dad buy Mrs. Hudson for Valentine’s Day?” Artie asks, and the rest of the table hoots, staring at Finn and Kurt. 

“I don’t want to know that!” Finn protests immediately. 

“I don’t either!” Kurt shakes his head vigorously. “That said, I suppose it’s a good thing I already had plans that evening.”

“Is he _cooking_?” Mike asks. “My mom wants my dad to cook her dinner for Valentine’s Day.”

“I hope not,” Kurt says. “There’s a reason our housekeeper is still employed. Maybe she’s making dinner and he’s serving it.”

“Like a little restaurant at home. That’s cool,” Finn says, then makes a face. “If I can forget it’s our parents.”

“Yes. And as long as our girlfriends don’t get any ideas.”

“Oh, but hey maybe it’s a good idea!” Finn looks excited. “You could ask your housekeeper to make enough for four more, and we could have Quinn and Rachel come to my house. It’d be a double date, so their parents wouldn’t be upset about them being at a boy’s house.”

“That would solve our problem of Valentine’s Day, wouldn’t it?” Kurt nods thoughtfully. Rachel and Quinn are strangely near–best friends, and despite their differing religious beliefs, Kurt thinks they’re probably more similar than not on most things. Certainly they agree on the importance of chastity, which means some nice flowers, a good dessert, and perhaps one more thing will suffice. “Dancing. We should dance with them one or two songs.”

“Girls love that,” Puck interjects. “There you go. Already working things out like true brothers.”

“I think Finn got all the genes for height!” Mike jokes, and the whole table laughs with him. It’s more or less just another lunch, something Kurt couldn’t have forseen at the beginning of the school year. He’s still convinced that at any minute, his secret could be discovered, and all of his friendships would dissolve into nothing, but there are moments with his friends, and in chorus, that he feels a sense of camaraderie that he’s never expected and never had previously. 

They travel as a group in the halls, more often than not, all of them congregating before chorus and meeting up with the girls in one group. After school, Kurt walks with the rest of the boys from chorus, sans Artie, to off-season football practice. He still eats dinner alone usually, partially due to Burt being with Mrs. Hudson, now. Kurt expects Puck after dinner, but sometimes he comes during dinner, and that evening is one of those times. 

“How is it your pot roast smells so much better than my Ma’s?”

“Mrs. Schmidt is a professional,” Kurt retorts, smiling. 

“Ah, yeah, good point. Can I have some?”

“Of course.” Kurt suspects that there’s not always enough food at the Puckerman household, and while he never would have guessed it before getting to know Puck, Kurt also suspects that Puck eats lightly or skips meals completely so his little sister has enough. If Mrs. Schmidt had been asked to pack lunches that were too much food for Kurt to eat on his own during the lunch period, Kurt thinks that that is between him and Mrs. Schmidt. 

“Thanks.” Puck helps himself to a plate and sits down. “You and Finn work out the rest of the Valentine’s Day plan?”

“Yes. My mother used to do calligraphy, so we still have the supplies, and Finn’s going to ask Mrs. Hudson to write out actual invitations for them.”

“You’re going to have to stop calling her Mrs. Hudson when her and your dad get hitched.”

Kurt shrugs. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, I suppose. I thought we’d do more with long division tonight.”

Puck makes a face. “If we have to.”

“It’s either that or diagramming.”

“Long division it is!” Puck grins. “And then I’ve got to show you what I found in the back of the newspaper. It’s the Toledo paper; my Nana gets it on Sundays.”

“Oh?” Kurt asks, putting his plate by the sink. 

“Yeah.” Puck scrapes the last bite off his plate and stands up. “The protests are getting bigger. More people refusing to enter the draft. I’m telling you, we’re going to get rid of Johnson next year.”

Kurt frowns, feeling skeptical. “You think so?”

“Someone’ll get the nomination instead of him and stop the war,” Puck says, then abruptly falls silent when they hear Burt’s truck pull in front of the house. “Like I said, later.”

“Later,” Kurt echoes. Puck hasn’t brought Kurt over to his way of thinking, his appreciation of Dylan, or a shaggy haircut, but Kurt has to admit that Puck is getting closer on the first two, at least.

 

“Okay, let’s take five,” Mr. Schuester says mid-rehearsal, one week before their regional competition. “We’ll do students’ choice for a few songs once we come back.”

“Let’s do a duet, Kurt,” Rachel says immediately. “We could do ‘Good Morning’.” 

Kurt nods almost immediately. “That sounds good.”

“You have the best boyfriend,” Tina says to Rachel, and all the girls giggle and look at Kurt briefly. 

“We should all do a song, just the six boys,” Finn suggests. 

“How about ‘My Generation’?” Puck says. “It’s not Dylan.” The other five of them laugh. 

“One day we need to do some of Mr. Dylan’s songs and see how long it takes Mr. Schuester to realize,” Artie suggests, and Kurt’s a little surprised that he’s nodding at the suggestion. 

“‘My Generation’ sounds good,” Mike agrees, and that easily, their song is decided. 

When Mr. Schuester calls the rehearsal back to order, Rachel steps forward and beckons to Kurt, bending to whisper to the piano player before he starts to play. Kurt knows they sound good together, and he carefully modulates his voice, not letting it soar as high as it could. Mr. Schuester leads the applause, and Kurt takes his seat as the girls shift and then start singing ‘He’s a Rebel’.

Kurt can tell the selection doesn’t exactly take Mr. Schuester by surprise, but it wasn’t necessarily what he had expected or hoped for. There’s still some concern expressed by the school board, as Kurt understands it, about the fact that the chorus sings music made famous by black artists. Kurt tries to ignore it, and thinks that perhaps they should push for something in competition the next year. 

Mr. Schuester’s face is almost comical when the boys start singing ‘My Generation’, Puck playing his guitar with the song. The Who is not their typical fare, but it isn’t Bob Dylan, whom Mr. Schuester has more or less made verboten. 

“That was very well-done,” Mr. Schuester says diplomatically at the end, and Kurt can’t help the grin spreading across his face as they move back into position to rehearse their set list for the regional competition. 

The competition approaches quickly, and as they ride to the venue in Columbus, Kurt wonders if their themed set will help their chances or hurt them. They go first this time, and Puck actually leads them off with a solo on ‘Lady Is a Tramp’. The Rat Pack theme seems like it should appeal to the judges. 

_She gets too hungry to wait for dinner at eight_  
 _She loves the theatre, but never comes late_  
 _She’d never bother with people she’d hate_  
 _That’s why the lady is a tramp_

The applause isn’t as high as Kurt would expect as they hold the final note in the song, then go immediately into ‘I’ve Gotta Be Me’. This time, they sing together and in harmonies until Finn solos at the end. 

_I'll go it alone, that’s how it must be_  
 _I can’t be right for somebody else_  
 _If I’m not right for me_  
 _I gotta be free, I just gotta be free_  
 _Daring to try, to do it or die_  
 _I gotta be me_

Their final song is a true group number, adapting ‘Luck Be A Lady’ to the group of them. The boys sing some parts, the girls others, and in the end, they harmonize beautifully, all twelve of their voices. 

_A lady never flirts with strangers_  
 _She’d have a heart, she’d be nice_  
 _A lady doesn’t wander all over the room_  
 _And blow on some other guys dice_  
 _Let’s keep this party polite_  
 _Never get out of my sight_  
 _Stick with me baby, I’m the guy that you came in with_  
 _Luck be a lady tonight_

As they watch the other groups, Kurt begins to think that they won’t win, even though they performed well. Their set list doesn’t seem to hold up, and when the results are announced, his opinion bears out immediately. They aren’t last, but they do place third, and they’re a fairly dejected group riding back to Lima. They meet for only two more rehearsals after their regional competition, which Kurt thinks is silly, and so does Rachel; she wants to start immediately preparing for the next year’s sectional competition. Kurt isn’t sure about that, but he misses the twelve of them gathering together, even if he still sits with the same people at lunch and sees Rachel and Quinn almost as often.

 

“Hey, Kurt!” Kurt wheels in place to see Puck jogging down the hall towards him. “Since Tanaka quit, and chorus is over for the year, can we meet after school _and_ after dinner until finals?”

“A newfound dedication to your schoolwork?” Kurt asks, raising an eyebrow and trying not to smile widely at Puck. 

“Yeah, well.” Puck looks around the hall and lowers his voice. “I mean, you’ve helped me a lot, and I’m glad we did the thing you said we should, about going back as far as necessary and reviewing. So I understand it, but we haven’t caught up in some classes, and I don’t want to do summer school. I have plans.”

“Oh?” Kurt motions for Puck to walk with him towards their biology class. 

“Ma wants me to go visit some friends of hers in Columbus. I want to check out what the Columbus papers are saying about everything. I feel like we’re not getting the whole story, Kurt! The library in Columbus might have the New York and the San Francisco papers, or even magazines about what’s really going on.”

“Do you really think so?” Kurt asks. “I mean, surely they can’t hide everything from us.”

Puck looks like he does, indeed, think that they—the government or the media, or perhaps both—could hide everything of any importance from Puck. “You’ll see,” he insists. “After school?” he asks as they take their seats. 

“After school,” Kurt agrees, continuing to his own desk. 

After school, though, Puck is jumpy. The two of them ride in Puck’s newly acquired car to Kurt’s house, Kurt gets them some pop and cookies, and they head to Kurt’s bedroom to study, just like they always do. Puck starts pacing after just fifteen minutes, and over math. Kurt puts down his pencil and the slide rule and watches Puck chew on a cookie as he paces. 

“Puck?” he finally ventures. 

“I’ve got to tell you something,” Puck blurts out. “Because you can keep a secret, right? I mean, you can. I know you can. And we’re friends.”

“Yes, we’re friends,” Kurt agrees. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes— no. I don’t know, really.” Puck sits down heavily. “Kurt, I— I’m a homosexual.”

Kurt can feel his jaw drop. Puck must have guessed at Kurt’s own secret, and this must be some way of trying to get him to admit it. Kurt continues thinking that for nearly thirty seconds, before he takes in the look on Puck’s face, the way he’s crumpling in on himself, and then how he looks like he’s contemplating leaving. Escaping. 

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Kurt says candidly, and then both of them start to laugh. 

“I can leave,” Puck offers. “If you’d rather not—”

“Don’t be silly,” Kurt cuts him off. “You’re right. I can keep your secret, and we are friends.” He smiles at Puck, hopefully in a somewhat encouraging way. “It’s fine, Puck.”

“Fine? You really think that?” Puck asks.

“Maybe not _here_ ,” Kurt admits carefully, because he’s thought about it. He thinks that it has to be fine elsewhere. If not fine, at least not so hard. “But you’re not going to stay here.”

“No,” Puck agrees after a moment. “You’re right. I’m not. Hey! When I go to Columbus. I should see where people that are, you know. Where they are.”

“Yes.” Kurt nods and smiles a second time. He thinks that perhaps his first thought was somewhat right. Puck did want a matching confession, not to humiliate Kurt, but so that he wouldn’t feel so alone. Kurt wants to give him that, the very thing that Kurt himself now has, but the words stick in his throat, and his mouth never even opens again after he pauses. He doesn’t feel like he can be as brave as Puck. “Oh! That’s why!”

“Why what?”

“The Cheerios, the religious ones.”

Puck grins sheepishly. “Most of ’em don’t even want to really kiss. I guess eventually I’ll run out of religious Cheerios, but for now it’s working out.” He gives Kurt a sharp considering look, which Kurt ignores. 

“Now we really have to get to work studying, Puck.”

“What? Why?”

“You have even more that you want to study in Columbus,” Kurt points out. 

“It’s not studying! It’s resear— oh, damn.” Puck looks chagrined. “Fine. Let’s get to work.” 

Kurt nods to himself as they go back to their work, and he forgets for a few brief seconds at a time the enormity of the secret that Puck’s entrusted him with. Puck is a homosexual, just like Kurt, and that means Kurt isn’t alone in their city. Not even in their school or in chorus or _on the football team_ , and Kurt suddenly wonders why Puck joined football. 

“Kurt? Earth to Kurt!”

“Sorry!” Kurt jumps a little and shakes his head, straightening the paper in front of him. “I just zoned out there.”

“Go ahead, ask,” Puck says wryly. 

“Ask what?”

“Whatever question it is that you’ve thought of.”

“Oh.” Kurt can feel himself flush somewhat. “It’s merely— is that why you joined football?”

“Is that— oh.” Puck cuts himself off, nodding slowly. “Not entirely. There’s advantages to it, though, yeah. I probably play up how much I like it. It wasn’t hard to figure out that football was directly contradictory to how people expect a—” Puck cuts himself off and makes a motion with his hand, and Kurt nods his understanding. His dad is home from work now, and Kurt can understand Puck’s caution. “To act.”

“Right.” Kurt nods his agreement and understanding, though he still hopes that Puck sees only the agreement. Their stories are too similar, too parallel, and even as Puck is trusting Kurt with his story, Kurt can’t quite bring himself to trust Puck. 

 

_I didn’t really know what to do, even knowing that Puck was like me. A homosexual. That made two of us in our town, possibly three, if I counted my girlfriend’s father. I wanted to tell Puck, but I was scared. No one had seen through my disguise of football and a steady girlfriend. My father’s sideways looks had ceased, though that could also have been because of Mrs. Hudson. I had successfully kept myself from having a schoolboy crush on Finn Hudson, or if I hadn’t succeeded, at least I’d kept it hidden and then gotten over it. My father was happy, I was happy, and I’d even gotten special thanks from Mr. Schuester for making sure Puck had passed his classes. Puck was glad that he wouldn’t have to do summer school. Everything outside Lima in June of 1967 seemed like it was uncertain, but my place in Lima was the most secure it had ever been._


	2. Junior Year

  
_The summer of ’67 was the summer of love for the people just a little older than me. In Lima, for a newly turned sixteen year old, it was a summer of work, of driving whenever possible, of my friends, and however reluctantly on my part, my girlfriend. I worked with my dad during the week, hung out with my friends in the evenings, and at least once a week, Puck told me about everything he found in Columbus, about the war, about homosexuals, everything. San Francisco, he said. That was where he was going to go._

 _The thing no one talked about when we were all together, all of the boys or all of chorus, was the draft. I knew we had differing opinions within the group. Puck represented one end, and Quinn represented the other. No one realized I had slowly been moving from the middle, towards the end Puck was at. I didn’t know what I was going to do if I were drafted, but by the time school reconvened in the autumn, the idea of burning my draft card didn’t seem so outlandish._

 

McKinley doesn’t look any different to Kurt on the first day of junior year, even though when he inhales deeply, he can detect the tell-tale scent of fresh paint. After his United States history class, he stops at his locker, trying to recall his new schedule. 

“ _Bonjour_ ,” Puck says. “I learned something in French I already.”

“I taught you that months ago,” Kurt protests. 

“Oh, yeah. I knew I picked it up pretty fast for a dummy like me.” Puck grins, and Kurt sighs and shakes his head, shutting his locker as he does so. 

“Stop. Do you have English now?”

“Yeah. You think all that diagramming and spelling and stuff’s finally going to pay off?” Puck asks Kurt quietly as the two of them head down the hall. 

“Yes. Oh, who is that?” Kurt turns to watch someone he doesn’t recognize walk down the hall. “He looks like he stepped out of a Beach Boys concert. One held at the beach.”

“Huh. Yeah.” Puck shrugs a little. “Maybe he transferred here.”

“Who transferred where?” Finn asks as he approaches. “No one left, did they?”

“Chill, we’re all still here,” Artie responds as he, Mike, and Matt join them. “Now what’s this about transferring?”

“New kid.” Puck jerks his thumb behind him, and the other four all turn to look at the new kid’s back. 

“Maybe he’ll want to join football. Or chorus,” Mike suggests. 

Kurt exaggeratedly looks at the six of them. “Would you want to join this group, Mike? Finn and I alone will frighten him away.”

“It’s true. We’ll give him the line about being brothers,” Finn agrees. “Speaking of our parents, my mom told me this morning she wants to ‘clean out the house’.”

“Suspicious!” Puck and Artie declare.

“I don’t know anything,” Kurt says. 

“I told you two that it was going to happen,” Puck says. 

“I’m more interested in the blond guy,” Kurt admits. “People don’t just move to Lima.” There’s something else about him that make Kurt curious. He can’t put a finger on it, but he wonders about it, wonders so much he doesn’t even object when Rachel kisses him before chorus rehearsal. Her kisses are still chaste, Kurt supposes, but it’s good he doesn’t object, since he can’t always be the one pulling away first. 

“Welcome back to another year,” Mr. Schuester greets them. “It’s good to see everyone. I thought that this first week, we’d focus on two goals. Yes, Rachel?”

“Is determining our set list for the sectional competition one of those goals, Mr. Schuester? Because if it isn’t, I must strongly—”

“Rachel, I promise we’ll get to that within the first few weeks of school,” Mr. Schuester says, and as Rachel sits back, Kurt pats her hand reassuringly. Her zeal is one of the things he does actually like about her, but at times it tends to overzealousness. 

“No, what we’re going to do is focus on more spontaneous performances, this week, and culminate with a courtyard performance, in an effort to draw in new members.” Mr. Schuester smiles at all of them. “Rachel, would you like to perform first today?”

“Thank you, Mr. Schuester.” Rachel stands up and smooths her skirt. She speaks briefly to the piano player, then starts to sing ‘I Know A Place’. 

“Thank you, Rachel. Boys? Would any of you like to sing something?”

“Yeah, I would,” Puck says, standing up, and Kurt notices for the fourth or fifth time that day that Puck’s hair is well below his collar, testing the dress code with his shirt untucked as well. Mr. Schuester obviously notices as well, but he doesn’t say anything, just grimaces and gestures for Puck to play. Puck picks up his guitar and grins at all of them as he starts to play. 

_Come gather ’round people_  
 _Wherever you roam_  
 _And admit that the waters_  
 _Around you have grown_  
 _And accept it that soon_  
 _You’ll be drenched to the bone_  
 _If your time to you_  
 _Is worth savin’_  
 _Then you better start swimmin’_  
 _Or you'll sink like a stone_  
 _For the times they are a-changin’_

Mr. Schuester’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t stop Puck, and Puck takes his seat almost lazily. “That was Bob Dylan,” Mr. Schuester says flatly. 

“Yes, it was.” Puck nods, and everyone watches Mr. Schuester. 

“I don’t think we’ll be using Mr. Dylan in competition,” Mr. Schuester says finally, and Kurt turns in time to see a wide grin spread across Puck’s face. 

“What about Peter, Paul, and Mary?” Puck fires back, and everyone laughs as a smile appears on Mr. Schuester’s face. Kurt doesn’t know exactly what it means; for all that their opinions are likely divided on the war in Vietnam, he knows the twelve of them don’t have the same divisions when it comes to some of the other controversial news topics, chiefly racial integration. For his part, Mr. Schuester has never shown any prejudice towards Mercedes or Matt, as some of the teachers at McKinley do. 

“We’ll see, Noah,” Mr. Schuester says. “We’ll see.”

“That’s not a no,” Puck murmurs under his breath as Quinn, Santana, and Brittany announce their intention to sing ‘Please Mr. Postman’. Puck’s right; it’s more than Kurt would have expected even fifteen minutes earlier. The times really are changing. 

By Tuesday’s rehearsal, they’ve settled on their song for their courtyard performance, and Artie, Matt, Brittany, and Tina volunteer to make signs about chorus and how the national competition will be in New York that year. By Friday, Kurt wishes one of the more controversial choices had won, already tired of the status quo. 

“They make me so angry,” he says as they change in the chorus room. 

“Which ones?” Puck says with a snort. “The ones dissing Mercedes and Matt, the ones making faces at Mike and Tina, or the ones doing this at the new guy?” He makes a gesture with his wrist, and Kurt scowls. 

“All of those, but I was talking about those freshman.”

“Ah, yeah. War’s real romantic.” Puck shakes his head. “Until it’s them or their sweetheart not coming back alive or whole.”

Kurt nods, noticing the rest of the room. Matt looks like he’s trying not to listen, but frowning anyway. Finn and Artie look undecided, and Mike looks sympathetic. The six of them join the girls and head to the courtyard, where Mr. Schuester is waiting. 

_I can’t wait forever_  
 _Even though you want me to_  
 _I can’t wait forever_  
 _To know if you’ll be true_  
 _Time won’t let me_  
 _Time won’t let me_

Mr. Schuester has them incorporate a little more choreography as they sing, and Kurt feels like he’s witnessing something evolving within chorus, as well. Kurt does notice the blond boy who transferred seems interested, and it’s somehow unsurprising when he walks into rehearsal the next week, introducing himself as Sam Evans. 

 

Four weeks into the school year, Kurt is sitting in chemistry during third period, glaring at Finn, Puck, and Mike, who are trying to set things on fire. 

“Why didn’t you claim me faster?” Kurt leans forward to hiss to Artie. “We could have been lab partners?” He looks enviously at Matt, sitting next to Artie. 

“I figured Puck needed your help more,” Artie says, grinning widely. “Doesn’t it make the tutoring easier?”

“Not if those three burn down the chemistry lab!”

Artie chuckles and Kurt sits back, still glaring half-heartedly. “Look we made it orange,” Puck whispers, and Kurt shakes his head. 

Eventually, Mr. Sanders notices the pyromania and puts an end to it before returning to his lecture. There are only five minutes left in the period when Miss Pillsbury, the guidance counselor, knocks on the door, and Kurt can see that behind her, Mr. Schuester is standing awkwardly and looking worried. “Mr. Sanders?” Miss Pillsbury says. “We need one of your students.”

“Of course.”

Miss Pillsbury walks inside the room, scanning it, and Kurt can feel his stomach drop when her gaze stops on him. “Kurt, can you come with us?”

Kurt manages to get to his feet, and he starts to get his books, when Puck pushes his hands away. “We’ll get it,” Puck says, and Kurt registers Artie nodding. 

“Actually, Finn, why don’t you come with us, too?” Mr. Schuester says, and the feeling in Kurt’s stomach grows worse. There’s no reason for Kurt and Finn to be pulled out of class at the same time, not unless it’s one of their parents. For all that Kurt and Finn brush it off, their parents spend more time together than apart, and it really is only a matter of time. But Kurt is the one they came for, which means it’s his dad.

“What’s wrong with Dad?” Kurt asks when they make it into the hall. 

Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester exchange a surprised look, and Kurt would roll his eyes and explain how he knows, if he weren’t so desperate to find out what was going on. “Your father collapsed at work,” Miss Pillsbury says gently. “He had severe abdominal pain and was rushed to the emergency room at St. Rita’s Hospital. I’m sure the sisters and the doctors there will take good care of him and find out what’s wrong, but we’ll accompany you—both of you—to the hospital.”

“Mr. Hummel _collapsed_?” Finn says, giving voice to Kurt’s own incredulity. “What? Why?”

“We’ll find out as soon as we get there, Finn,” Mr. Schuester says, and Kurt appreciates that Mr. Schuester is at least trying to sound reassuring. Kurt tunes out most of the short ride to St. Rita’s, even though he realizes he’s humming along with the radio. Mr. Schuester takes charge as soon as they reach the hospital, finding out where Burt is and taking them to the appropriate waiting room while the hospital finds a doctor or nurse to speak with them. After what feels like hours, a nun approaches them. 

“Are you here for Burt Hummel?”

“He’s my dad, yes,” Kurt says shakily. “What happened? Is he okay?”

“Your father had acute appendicitis, which caused his initial collapse. While the emergency room staff was evaluating his condition, his appendix burst. He was taken to surgery, where his appendix was successfully removed. He’s in stable condition, but sedated.”

“So he’s going to be okay?” Kurt feels like he’s going to collapse, and after a moment, he does sit back down in the waiting room chair. 

“With the proper antibiotics and wound care, yes, he’ll be just fine.”

“Oh, wow. That’s great. That’s great, right?” Finn says. “That Mr. Hummel’s going to be okay?”

Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury nod, and after a few moments, Miss Pillsbury goes to the nurses’ station to make some telephone calls. Kurt is still sitting in the chair, curling his fingers around the arms of it, and he stays that way even after Mrs. Hudson joins them in the waiting room. 

“Boys, they’re not going to let us see Burt until the morning,” Mrs. Hudson says after several hours. “Let’s get some dinner from a fast-food restaurant and go get some sleep. Kurt, you’ll stay with us tonight, of course. We’ll need to stop and get you a change of clothes, though; I don’t think any of Finn’s will fit you.”

“No,” Kurt agrees in a murmur. He lets Mrs. Hudson lead him out of the hospital, and he manages to give her his order at McDonald’s before collecting three or four days’ worth of clothes at his house, because he doesn’t know when they’ll release his dad from the hospital. He takes a shower at the Hudson’s house, puts on his pajamas, and returns to the living room to find the sofa pulled out into a freshly made bed. 

“We’ll get up early and go back to the hospital before school.” Kurt must look alarmed, because Mrs. Hudson quickly shakes her head. “No, you don’t have to go tomorrow, but Finn should. Who do you want him to get notes from for you?”

“Oh. Artie, I guess. And Quinn or Tina for French III.”

“Artie and Quinn or Tina,” Mrs. Hudson repeats. “I’ll tell him. Do you want to watch any television or go straight to bed?”

“I think I’ll go to sleep,” Kurt says slowly, and Mrs. Hudson nods her understanding, turning out all but one lamp and leaving the room. Kurt turns it off once he hears Finn and Mrs. Hudson go into their respective bedrooms, but he lies awake for a long time, staring at the ceiling. 

When he’d realized why Miss Pillsbury and Mr. Schuester had come to get him, Kurt had had time to consider what could potentially be wrong. It could have been a heart attack, or a car that had fallen and crushed his dad. In the end, the appendicitis almost feels like he and his dad dodged the possibility of something much worse. 

 

Three weeks later, Kurt is caught up on work, his dad is eager to get back to work, and Kurt frowns a little when he sees Sam Evans walking down the hall carrying Quinn Fabray’s books. Quinn and Finn broke up just after school let out, and Finn’s dating Santana now, but that isn’t why Kurt frowns. For a brief period of time, something in Sam’s demeanor made Kurt wonder if Sam, too, was a homosexual. He’s too pleased to be with Quinn, though; Kurt knows acting, at least, when he sees it, and Sam isn’t acting like Kurt does with Rachel, or even Puck with the religious Cheerios. No, he’s genuinely entranced by Quinn, and Kurt shakes his head a little. 

“What, did you want to move on to Quinn?” Puck says from behind Kurt. 

“What? No.” Kurt shakes his head. 

“Then why the frown?”

Kurt looks around the hall, then leans closer to Puck, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I thought there was a possibility that he was like us.” He walks to French III without looking back, one of his hands shaking. He hasn’t even said the words, but it’s closer than he’s ever gotten before. 

Puck doesn’t mention it at lunch, chorus, or football practice, but he shows up at Kurt’s house as Kurt’s putting his dishes away after dinner. “Did you mean it?”

Kurt considers asking him ‘Mean what?’, trying to be disingenuous, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes a deep breath and nods. 

“Like us.”

“Yes. That’s what I meant.”

Puck frowns and motions for them to go down to Kurt’s bedroom, and Kurt follows him down the stairs. “You never said anything.” It’s not accusatory, not quite, but Kurt looks down regardless. He knows how alone he felt before Puck told him his secret, and he imagines Puck feels a bit betrayed by Kurt’s silence. 

“What did you want me to say?” Kurt says helplessly. “I wasn’t ready. I still haven’t really said it, not the words, not like you did.” Kurt paces his bedroom. “You know what it’s like! I’m much more obvious. You know what people whispered before last year, before football and before Rachel.”

Puck’s silent for a long time, so long that Kurt picks up his pillow and starts fiddling with it. “Okay,” Puck says finally. “You’re right. It’s just that—”

“—you’ve felt so alone?” Kurt interrupts. “I know. And I’m sorry.” Kurt puts down the pillow. “I am.”

“Yeah.” Puck nods. 

“Did you really think—?”

“That you really loved Rachel or breasts or something?” Puck grins widely. “No. But then you didn’t say anything, so I wasn’t sure.”

“Should I feel guilty about it?” Kurt sighs. “I do everything she wants from a high school boyfriend. She doesn’t want the serious relationship with me.”

“Nah, she’s having a great time. She’s like your best friend that you tolerate kissing.” Puck laughs. “Not her fault, but like you say, she doesn’t want a serious relationship here, in high school. I think you’re good.”

“Good.” 

“Here’s to the homosexuals of McKinley,” Puck says wryly, lifting the glass of pop that he’d brought down from the kitchen. 

“Here’s to us,” Kurt agrees. “All two of us.”

“Statistics say there should be a lot more. Remember what I said?”

“Right, that report you read in Columbus, from the professor in Indiana. Still, it’s not like we can put up a sign or take out an ad in the school newspaper.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, I think we should skip that.” He looks consideringly at Kurt. “No one else knows, right?”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “You?”

“No.”

The two of them sit in silence until the door upstairs closes, announcing Burt is back from his date with Mrs. Hudson, and still without speaking, Kurt and Puck start their homework. Lying in bed later that night, Kurt reflects that he feels less alone. It doesn’t make any sense, because he already knew about Puck. Somehow, though, in the telling, he feels less alone. 

 

“Kurt, buddy, let’s have a chat,” Burt says one afternoon, as if Kurt wasn’t already alarmed enough by Burt being home before dinner on a day that was neither Friday nor a planned dinner with the Hudsons. 

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, putting their foil–wrapped dinner into the oven. Mrs. Schmidt’s meals always warm up in a 350°F oven, and they never taste like they were warmed up. “What’s going on, Dad?”

“I want to ask Carole to marry me,” Burt says, looking excited, and Kurt nods. It’s not a surprise, not at all. 

“Okay.” Kurt smiles. “I’m glad.”

“I’m hoping she’ll agree to a wedding that’s pretty soon. Do you think Mrs. Schmidt would help her plan it?”

Kurt purses his lips. “Maybe Mrs. Schmidt’s daughter?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s a good idea.” Burt nods vigorously. “And of course, she and Finn would move in here. You and Finn already are good friends.”

“Yes.” Kurt nods and starts to set the table, running through the scenarios in his head. His dad’s statement means that they won’t be moving to the Hudsons’, which makes sense, as the Hudson house is smaller than the Hummel one. Still, it had deserved a place as a potential scenario. Another scenario, the one Kurt had thought more likely at times, was all of them moving in to a third, new to them house, but the way Burt says the words makes Kurt think that Burt and Carole have discussed the potential for getting married, even if Burt hasn’t yet asked. 

Burt hasn’t made any mention of cleaning out the sewing room or spare bedroom, the room that was Kurt’s nursery until he turned three and he moved downstairs to his ‘big boy room’, as his mother had called it. The nursery had become his mother’s sewing room until her death, and then slowly it had become ‘the spare bedroom’ and a storage room, filled with all of the things that neither Burt nor Kurt know what to do with. Since Burt hasn’t mentioned it, Kurt thinks that probably means he and Finn are to share the basement bedroom. 

If Kurt were to be completely honest, he’s been wanting his bedroom redone, but it’s a topic he shies away from, afraid that a slight interest in interior decorating could be construed as implying something, even with football and a steady girlfriend. 

“Perhaps Finn and I should pick out a few new things for the bedroom, so Finn feels less like he’s moving into my bedroom, and more like we’re both adjusting to a change?” Kurt finally suggests. “I doubt it matters very much, but he’s still the one leaving his house.”

“That’s a great idea,” Burt agrees. “Can you and Finn talk to Mrs. Schmidt and Carole about it?”

“Of course.” Kurt retrieves their dinner from the oven and puts it on the table while his dad pours their drinks, and Kurt sits down at his place. “When do you plan to ask her?”

“I’m taking her out to dinner on Saturday night,” Burt says. “Thought I’d ask her then.” He serves them both some dinner, then looks at Kurt. “How’s Rachel?”

“Rachel? She’s fine,” Kurt assures Burt. “As driven as ever.”

“She is pretty ambitious, isn’t she?” Burt chuckles. “Guess you two are getting serious, it’s been a year now. You barely even fight!”

“Well, you know Rachel plans to leave Lima after high school,” Kurt temporizes, and there’s a little bit of an unspoken “and so do I” hanging after that sentence, at least in Kurt’s head. He can’t tell whether or not Burt hears it. 

“Right, right.” Burt nods. “Football? How’re the new players working out?” 

“Fine.” Kurt frowns. “One of them is a junior, but he played hockey, I think, last year. Karofsky. He rarely wants to spend time with the rest of the team. I understand not wanting to spend time with the entire group at times, but the only person he does spend any time with is Azimio Adams, and Karofsky himself is very quiet. It’s odd.”

“Is it hurting team unity?”

“Oh, no, nothing like that. It’s just strange.” Kurt shrugs a little, almost sorry he mentioned Karofsky once his dad responds. There’s nothing wrong with being a little quiet and wanting to blend in, but something about Karofsky’s behavior almost makes Kurt sad, inexplicably. 

“And chorus?”

“Going well, though we don’t have even the beginnings of a set list for our sectional competition. Oh, Mr. Schuester did announce he’d like to put on a musical this year, but I don’t know how well it will go over.”

“Oh?”

“He’d like to do _Damn Yankees_ ,” Kurt explains. “The subject matter, the provocative title…”

Burt coughs. “Yeah, I don’t know that that’ll get real far,” he says. “Too bad, I know all of you like to perform.”

“Yes.”

“Given any more thought to that career aptitude test?”

Kurt’s beginning to feel like he’s being interviewed, but between his father’s recovery period and their schedules, he supposes it has been a long time since they sat down for a meal where it was just the two of them. “I just don’t know that teaching’s for me.” He’ll make a socially acceptable reason for not wanting to teach, if he has to. “Journalism, maybe.”

“You’d be a good reporter.” Burt points his fork at Kurt and grins. “Asking the hard questions, coming up with the right questions to ask. I can see that.” 

Kurt manages to steer the conversation towards the subjects of the shop and the other workers there, leaving his own life behind, but he keeps thinking about the impending question, and at the beginning of rehearsal after school the next day, he turns to Finn. It’s an odd thing, sharing a best friend with the person who’s about to become his stepbrother, though it makes things easier, no doubt. 

“Heads up,” Kurt says calmly. 

“Heads up about what?” Finn asks, looking askance at Kurt. 

Kurt lifts his left hand and wiggles his ring finger. “Saturday night.”

“Really?” Finn grins. “That’s awesome. What else did he tell you?”

“I think they’ve talked about it, even if he hasn’t asked and she doesn’t know exactly when,” Kurt says. “I think you’re moving in with us.”

“Yeah?” Finn makes a face, then shrugs. “I guess that makes the most sense.”

“Dad said you and I should get together with your mom and Mrs. Schmidt, so the room’s freshly painted and all of that.”

“Can we paint it black?” Finn asks with a big grin.

Puck starts to play the opening chords of ‘Paint It Black’, and all of the boys laugh before starting to sing along. Santana, Mercedes, and Tina jump in, too, and Quinn shakes her head. Kurt notes that Rachel doesn’t even look up from her perusal of sheet music. 

“Time to talk more about the sectional competition!” Mr. Schuester announces as he walks into the room. “We need to start nailing down a setlist.”

“I think we should do folk music,” Puck says, setting his guitar upright in the chair beside him. He’s staking out a position, Kurt can’t help but think, and his hair is once again flirting with being a dress code violation. 

“I think we should do something upbeat and non-controversial,” Quinn counters. “Pat Boone has some very popular songs. We could focus on just one artist.”

“Yeah, ’cause he steals them and covers them to make them sound more white,” Mercedes says scornfully. “I don’t like either of these suggestions, Mr. Schuester.”

They all turn to Mr. Schuester, who looks almost, Kurt thinks, constipated. He definitely looks confused, like he wasn’t expecting the dissension. “Noah, Quinn, thank you for your ideas.” He sighs. “We can’t argue, and we can’t do anything controversial in either direction.” He looks out the door and then back at the thirteen of them. “We’re one of the few integrated groups in the school, and we’re the only non-athletic group that has appearances in the community. We’re also the only group that was non-forcibly integrated.” He shakes his head slowly. “Whatever our other differences, we have to stand united.”

Kurt frowns, and he sees the same frown on other faces. They knew they were different, but Mr. Schuester’s never been quite so open about that fact with them. The fact that he’s mentioning it seems to indicate that perhaps he’s getting some flak from other teachers or even possibly Principal Figgins. 

Principal Figgins, whose wife had always been the head of the ‘let’s marry off Burt Hummel’ crowd, has never been someone Kurt has associated with tolerance of any sort, so he’s not surprised, but he is a little surprised Mr. Schuester would tell them and suggest a specific course of action. 

“How about a theme like ‘beach music’ or something?” Finn suggests into the silence. “There’s lots of beach music, right? Beach Boys, Jan and Dean.”

“I like that, Finn. Thank you.” Mr. Schuester smiles at Finn, as does Santana, and then Mr. Schuester looks around the room. There’s silence before Puck nods twice, and the rest of the boys follow suit. The girls take longer; aside from Santana, only Tina and Rachel nod at first, but then the other three do. “Great! I’ll start trying to think of a few specific songs, and all of you should do the same.” He turns to the piano player to start their warm-ups, and Kurt sighs, thinking about his father’s likely–upcoming nuptials. There’s not really a reason to get Mrs. Schmidt or her daughter involved in planning the wedding, nor Mrs. Schmidt and Carole involved in the bedroom redecorating. Both activities are something Kurt would love to handle, but the most he’ll be able to do is contribute a few thoughts for the bedroom he’s going to share with Finn. 

Sharing a bedroom will have a few downsides, Kurt knows, like a lack of privacy, but it has at least one upside: he will be even less likely to be expected to make it to second base or beyond. After all, the Berrys would never let Kurt in Rachel’s bedroom unsupervised, and even if Kurt had the willingness to sneak Rachel into his room, he will have a roommate, thereby lowering expectations. 

Saturday evening goes as Burt expects, and Burt and Kurt have lunch the next afternoon with Carole and Finn. Burt and Carole quickly start talking about things that neither Kurt nor Finn have interest in, which means they start talking to each other about the bedroom. 

“Do you think we could get our own television?” Finn whispers. “Since I have to move, and you have to start sharing your bedroom.”

“Maybe,” Kurt agrees, perking up a little at the thought. “We’d need a sofa.”

“Oh, awesome. It’d be like one of those one-room apartments, but without the kitchen,” Finn says, and Kurt nods. The idea has real appeal. 

“Maybe some kind of curtain or room divider, so our beds aren’t out if we have people over.”

“Yeah, so one of us could sleep if we had to.” Finn grins. “This is going to be awesome, little brother.”

“I’m not that much younger than you!” Kurt protests. 

“Yeah, but you’re a lot shorter.” Finn shrugs, still grinning. “Hey, and at least we kinda have the same best friend.”

“True.” Kurt laughs a little. “Though I have the feeling both of our parents would be happier if he looked a little less like a hippie.”

“Hey, he’s just wearing his thoughts on his head and sleeve and all of that, right?” Finn lowers his voice. “You agree with him, don’t you? About the war, and Johnson, and everything.”

Kurt nods slowly, glancing briefly at Burt. “Yes. I’m not in complete agreement with him on everything, but yes.” Things like homosexuality, interestingly; Kurt wants to believe that there’s nothing inherently wrong with them, but he knows most of the world doesn’t see things that way, and he can’t quite believe it. 

Finn nods understandingly. “Yeah, I don’t know what I think, some days. I mean, my dad died in Korea, and your dad fought in World War II, and all of that.” Finn shrugs. “Maybe it’ll be over before we’re old enough to get drafted.”

“I hope so.” Kurt smiles a little. “It would make everything a little bit better.”

The word spreads fast amongst the chorus, then the football team, and then the rest of the school, so by the end of the following week, everyone at McKinley, including the teachers, knows that Finn’s mom and Kurt’s dad are getting married in just a few weeks. The autumn speeds by in a flurry of tutoring, football games, rehearsals, wedding fittings, and room redecorating decisions, a schedule made even more hectic when Burt and Carole decide that instead of hiring a band, they’d like the chorus to sing at their wedding ceremony as a group, and again in singles, pairs, and trios at the wedding reception. 

That necessitates even more rehearsal time, which cuts into the time available on a normal basis for studying and tutoring, which means longer days tutoring and studying on the weekends, until Kurt can’t really put a finger on when he last relaxed. He takes Rachel out each week, of course, but that’s not something that he finds relaxing. In the middle of the week before the wedding, the Hudsons’ things are moved into the Hummel house, and Carole and Finn spend the last three nights before the wedding at a hotel in downtown Lima. Burt and Carole are taking a honeymoon, at least, and Kurt intends to spend the day following the wedding and reception in bed. 

The day of the wedding, Kurt wakes up to rain, which means everyone is pressed into service to keep the dresses dry and the girls, in general, dry. The thirteen of them in chorus stand to the side and sing Frank Sinatra’s ‘Day by Day’ during the ceremony, and Kurt absolutely does not feel like crying and laughing at the same time. 

“This is hectic!” Puck says to Kurt at the reception, as the members of glee club trade off singing duties. “Feel like I’ve barely seen you.”

“I feel like I’ve barely seen me today,” Kurt agrees.

“Nah, I mean, in general.” Puck shrugs. “I know we’ve done my tutoring and I’m glad, but we used to hang out.” There’s a weird look on Puck’s face, that Kurt can’t quite figure out. 

“I can’t remember the last time I just relaxed,” Kurt confesses. “Listened to music or read or anything.” Something clears on Puck’s face, and he grins a little.

“Yeah, I figured,” he says quickly. 

“But tomorrow I have absolutely no plans,” Kurt says happily, and Puck’s grin gets a little wider. 

“Great! We’ll hang out and maybe skip the tutoring and studying altogether.”

That hadn’t really been what Kurt meant, but he realizes Puck’s probably felt abandoned by Kurt and Finn alike during the weeks leading up to the wedding, so he doesn’t argue. And he doesn’t even complain when he’s woken up at ten the next morning by a somewhat over-enthusiastic Puck. 

“I found a bunch of stuff a few weeks ago,” Puck announces. “So I made copies of it. And guess what finally opened at the theatres around here? _In the Heat of the Night_. We’re going to the matinee.”

“We saw it back in August in Columbus,” Kurt says, confused.

“Well, yeah, but if they don’t get people to watch it in Lima, what happens the next time a movie like it gets released? We need to let ’em know people do want to see it.” 

“Okay.” Kurt yawns. “Where’s Finn?”

“Remember, he and Sam were doing some kind of quarterback thing today.”

“Oh. No, I don’t remember,” Kurt admits. “Doesn’t Sam go to church? No, wait, I know this one. Catholic! Mass is early.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, exactly.”

Despite it not being Kurt’s exact plan for the day, Kurt feels much better at the end of the day, a little more on an even keel, and he doesn’t even mind when Rachel kisses him hello the next morning at school. She’s happy, having performed so much over the weekend, and Kurt lets himself go through the day without paying much attention to anything in particular, even rehearsal. 

 

  


It had taken a few weeks to finalize their set list, and rehearsals for their sectional competition had continued after the wedding, but by the time they make the drive to Dayton, everyone seems to be happy and Kurt thinks they have a good chance of winning for a second time. Their discussion on the trip is not about the competition, though, but about the news Mercedes shares. 

“Dr. King is coming to Ohio next month.”

“That’s incredible,” Rachel says, and similar statements echo around the bus. 

“Not just Ohio, in _Ada_ ,” Mercedes explains. “It’s a school day, but I want to go.”

“We all should,” Puck throws out. 

“Skip class?” Quinn asks, sounding surprised. 

“What’s more important, class or seeing someone like Dr. King?” Kurt says, surprising himself a little. “No one as significant as Dr. King has come this close to Lima in some time.”

“I agree,” Matt says, which makes all of them take note. Matt rarely speaks, which means that if he has an opinion, they’re more likely to listen to it. 

“I’m in,” Rachel announces. “Come on, Quinn, Kurt’s right. This is history in action, not far from our hometown. The school should be _sending_ us.”

Quinn’s silent for a few moments, and Kurt knows if Quinn agrees, that means they really are all going to go. She finally nods and there’s a few cheers, which makes Mr. Schuester turn around for the first time. 

“What’s up, kids?”

“We’re going to go see Dr. King speak in January,” Rachel informs him. “I’m afraid to report, Mr. Schuester, that we may miss chorus that day.”

Mr. Schuester looks surprised, and he doesn’t respond for a moment. “Well, as long as I don’t know too many details,” he says, smiling slightly, and there’s smiles and laughter in response. 

Kurt barely notices the first group that performs; their set doesn’t particularly stand out, and neither do any of the performers. The second group is introduced as The Warblers, from the Dalton Academy for Boys, and they are all in what looks like a private school uniform. Their lead singer is charismatic and enthusiastic, but Kurt thinks that even his skill and willingness to dance a bit more cannot rescue their set. Ironically, The Warblers’ set is exactly what Quinn had proposed: Pat Boone. Pat Boone’s version of ‘Tutti Frutti’ is already bad enough, in Kurt’s opinion, but their cover is at best uninspired. They follow it up with ‘I Almost Lost My Mind’ before closing with ‘Ain’t That a Shame’, and Kurt shakes his head. Mercedes had been correct. 

There’s no more time to contemplate The Warblers once the set ends, since New Directions has to get ready to perform. Their ‘surf rock’ set doesn’t sound that bad, in Kurt’s opinion, and he thinks that they can easily win, assuming they get through the set without mishap. 

Bruce and Terry’s ‘Summer Means Fun’ is their opening number, and the audience perks up almost immediately. Kurt notes that some of them are moving a little in their seats, and almost all of them seem to be smiling. 

_Drive-in movies every night_   
_Staying out ’til half past one_   
_Sleeping late and living right now_   
_Cause summer means fun_

For the purpose of competing, they eliminate one of the repetitions of the chorus at the end, and there’s barely a pause in the music before they begin ‘Surf City’. Mr. Schuester had been a little hesitant over the part about two girls for every boy, but they leave out the opening repetition and hope that the judges won’t mark them down for slightly questionable lyrics in the source material. Kurt personally thinks it sounds like a nightmare, but apparently two girls per boy is something the other boys, with the exception of Puck, think would be wonderful. 

_And if my woody breaks down on me somewhere on the surf route_  
 _(Surf City, here we come)_  
 _I'll strap my board to my back and hitch a ride in my wetsuit_  
 _(Surf City, here we come)_  
 _And when I get to Surf City I'll be shootin’ the curl_  
 _And checkin’ out the parties for a surfer girl_

Their final song, ‘Good Vibrations’, is also their most challenging vocally, with various harmonizing parts.

_Close my eyes, she's somehow closer now_  
 _Softly smile, I know she must be kind_  
 _When I look in her eyes_  
 _She goes with me to a blossom world_

They pull it off, though, and pull it off well, and when the audience stands to applaud at the end, Kurt knows he, like the rest of New Directions, is beaming. 

“We’re on the way to New York in the spring!” Mr. Schuester tells them happily as they wait for the results to be announced. “I can feel it.”

Still, Kurt doesn’t fully relax until they are officially announced as the winners, and everyone is hugging everyone else. It’s those group hugging sessions that are uncomfortable for Kurt at times; he feels like he’s doing something wrong, even if Puck disagrees and argues against feeling that way. Even aside from the potential guilt, however, Kurt knows that those hugs confirm his homosexuality. The way he feels even with a platonic hug is so different with the boys than the girls, and he knows his face probably looks a little sad as they all head to the bus. 

“I told you, don’t worry about it,” Puck says quietly, falling into step with him. “We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“They wouldn’t want us to hug them if they knew.”

Puck frowns. “They might. Probably. Finn wouldn’t care. He’s been my best friend for years, and you’re his brother now. Don’t feel bad about him, at least.”

Kurt lets out an uncomfortable chuckle, but he knows Puck is right. Finn immediately dropped the ‘step’ portion of ‘step-brother’ and threw himself enthusiastically into the redecoration of the basement. Kurt and Finn are still hoping for the television set as a Christmas present, since it didn’t materialize initially. 

“Okay,” Kurt finally says. “And make sure you plan on coming over the day after Christmas, in case we do get a television.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Hanukkah starts that night, but not until sunset.”

“That’s right.” Kurt shakes his head. “I think I deliberately stopped listening after I told Rachel that no, I wasn’t getting her eight gifts, since I wasn’t also Jewish.”

Puck laughs. “I don’t blame you.”

 

Eleven days after 1968 begins, all thirteen of them in New Directions gather in the chorus room after first period. Before they can leave, Lauren Zizes enters the room. 

“Can I go, or is this a closed unauthorized field trip?”

“Are you actually interested in joining chorus?” Santana fires back, and Lauren shrugs. 

“Sure. I’ll join. You need an even number of boys and girls, after all.” 

“How did you even know we were going?” Rachel asks, as the group of them, now fourteen strong, start to leave the building in the midst of students still changing classes.

“Puckerman and I talk during French,” Lauren says, and Kurt looks over at Puck, raising an eyebrow. 

“I started running out of girls at the synagogue,” Puck whispers as they reach the doors. “Lauren’s kind of known for not letting a guy do _anything_. If I spend enough time trying to convince her to date me, no one will think anything of it if we date for months and never get anywhere.” 

Kurt nods understandingly. Puck isn’t at the same risk as he himself is, at least not in Kurt’s opinion, but if Lauren is willing to unknowingly play along, Puck would be foolish not to at least try. 

“Wait up,” a voice says behind them just as they step onto the slushy sidewalks. “Hang on.”

Puck groans, and the fourteen of them turn almost in unison to see Mr. Schuester running after them. 

“Mr. Schuester, we really want to do this,” Finn starts to say. 

“No, no,” Mr. Schuester says, shaking his head and grinning. “I’m coming along. If this is big enough to get all of you involved, I want to go too.”

Kurt laughs along with the others; their unapproved ‘field trip’ is looking more and more like a real field trip, albeit one without Principal Figgins’ approval. 

Mr. Schuester’s presence, however, means that no one has to sit on a lap for the twenty-five minute drive to Ohio Northern. Dr. King is visiting as the speaker for the college’s daily chapel at 10 a.m., and students at Ohio Northern are seated first, but the fifteen of them manage to get into the gymnasium where Dr. King will speak, regardless. 

“Excited?” Puck asks, and Kurt grins as he nods. 

“Everything’s gone so smoothly. I feel like I should pinch myself,” Kurt says, shaking his head a little. 

“Yeah, exactly.” Puck nods. “I can’t believe even Mr. Schuester came. Guess we’re a bad influence on our teacher.” He laughs for a moment, and Kurt joins him. 

Dr. King runs a bit late, but Kurt doesn’t think that bothers any of them. When he takes the stage and starts to speak, Kurt knows he’s probably gaping a little. He’s heard Dr. King on the news, of course, and on the radio. He knows what his voice sounds like. Hearing him in person is a different experience altogether, and Kurt tries to soak in as many details as possible—how he sounds, what he’s saying, how everyone else is reacting—and it’s overwhelming. 

Rachel is sitting on the opposite side of him, and she picks up Kurt’s hand, five minutes into Dr. King’s speech, squeezing it a little. Kurt squeezes back, because he’s supposed to do that. He wishes for a second that it were a _different_ hand holding his, and the realization of what he’s thought startles him. He knows he’s gay, and has known, and he’s even had a few thoughts, usually in the dark of night where he can pretend. Usually they aren’t about being in public, or anything other than vague ideas of being alone with a boy.

But this is in public, and more specifically, about wanting something in public. Wanting to hold a boy’s hand, where someone could see. He loses a few moments of Dr. King’s speech as the significance hits him, then gathers himself with a deep breath. No one seems to have noticed, or at least he thinks that for approximately twenty seconds before Puck nudges him. 

“You okay now?” Puck asks. 

“I’m fine,” Kurt whispers, nodding once. And he is. He repeats to himself what Puck says, that there’s nothing inherently wrong with them. It’s just this particular thing is new. 

Dr. King’s speech is something Kurt knows he won’t forget, and they stay for the question and answer session, as well. During the transition between the two, Finn turns to Mr. Schuester. 

“Mr. Schuester? Won’t you get in trouble for this?”

“I actually called in sick,” Mr. Schuester admits. “I took a chance coming in the school, but if anyone had asked, I was dropping off the tests for my fourth period, so a substitute could administer them.”

“Way to go!” Puck calls, and all of them clap a little for Mr. Schuester. 

When they return to McKinley, Mr. Schuester drives away almost immediately, and the rest of them turn to each other. 

“Do we go to our last class?” Rachel says. 

“I vote no,” Tina says, shaking her head. “If we’re lucky, they haven’t noticed. Showing up for the first and last seems like it would be noticed more.”

“Yep,” Puck says. “Exactly. Time to go home, we’ve had an actual educational experience today.” 

 

The Tet Offensive starts at the end of that month; by the middle of February, casualties are high, and Kurt watches the evening news each day with a growing sense of anger. The administration talks about wanting _more_ troops, and on the twenty-third, a Friday night, Kurt actually lets his anger show. 

“A new draft call! I can’t believe these utter idiots!”

“Kurt!” Burt turns to him, scowling, and Kurt wants to shrink back. He doesn’t, though he notices Finn does, and Carole gets up to go into the kitchen. “Watch your language.”

“It’s true, Dad,” Kurt says, and if his voice shakes, Burt doesn’t seem to realize. “They’re responding to a failure of a war by doing more of the same. Sending more troops, more Americans to _die_.”

“That’s not the case, Kurt,” Burt says firmly. “Those American soldiers are doing something important. They’re keeping Communism from spreading, and they’re serving their country. Most of the country agrees that it’s important.”

“Because the people who oppose the war aren’t getting press coverage,” Kurt argues. “Not in Lima.”

“People who oppose the war,” Burt repeats slowly. “That include you, Kurt?”

Kurt inhales and holds his breath as he thinks. It _does_ , he realizes; it’s not about his own chances of being drafted, or the people that he attends school with. It’s also about the war ending, and Kurt nods as he exhales. “It does.”

“Hmph.” Burt turns back to the television and doesn’t say anything else. There’s absolute silence except for the news, which changes to a story about Senator Morton of Kentucky, who will likely not be seeking reelection. Finn keeps looking between Kurt and Burt, and Kurt finally offers him a shaky smile. 

Dinner is tense, and Kurt’s glad to escape the house the next day, when he and Finn meet the other boys in chorus for a doubleheader of _Planet of the Apes_ and _Blackbeard’s Ghost_ , even though they’ve all seen both movies at least once in the past two weeks. Kurt is equally glad to spend Sunday in his and Finn’s room, studying, tutoring Puck, and watching the television set that he and Finn had in fact received for Christmas. Kurt only goes upstairs to retrieve breakfast and lunch, both of which he eats downstairs, and to sit and eat at dinner. 

Leaving for school on Monday morning is honestly a relief for Kurt, and he grins as soon as he walks into the chorus room. Puck’s head is bent over his guitar, tuning it, and Kurt’s gaze lingers on Puck’s fingers. They’re more delicate than most people realize; they expect Puck to have large hands, because he plays football and makes As in autoshop easily. Most of them don’t watch him with a guitar, though, not like the people in chorus do. 

Puck looks up and smirks at Kurt when he notices Kurt watching him. “Thought I’d do a little song for ’em today, in honor of Friday’s news.”

“Oh.” Kurt bites his lip a little and sits down. “What song?”

“Thought I’d do some Seeger. ‘Waist Deep in the Big Muddy’.”

Kurt stifles a laugh. “The big fool does say to push on.”

After everyone arrives, Mr. Schuester asks if anyone wants to perform before they rehearse their potential songs for the Regional competition, and Puck raises his hand in a little wave. “Yeah, I’ve got something.” 

“Oh?” Mr. Schuester asks as Puck goes to the front of the room. 

“It’s got some history in it,” Puck says, starting the song, and of course, the first line does mention it being in 1942. Puck continues from there, managing to keep a straight face. 

_"Sergeant, go on! I forded this river_  
 _’Bout a mile above this place._  
 _It’ll be a little soggy but just keep slogging._  
 _We’ll soon be on dry ground."_  
 _We were — waist deep in the Big Muddy_  
 _And the big fool said to push on._

Mr. Schuester starts to look a little concerned as the song continues, and Kurt scans the other faces. Tina looks amused, Quinn’s frowning, and everyone else seems a little confused. 

Puck’s straight face finally breaks, and he looks up and smirks as he sings. 

_Well, I’m not going to point any moral;_  
 _I’ll leave that for yourself_  
 _Maybe you’re still walking, you’re still talking_  
 _You’d like to keep your health._  
 _But every time I read the papers_  
 _That old feeling comes on;_  
 _We’re — waist deep in the Big Muddy_  
 _And the big fool says to push on._

There’s a few wide eyes, Kurt notes, but as Puck goes into the last stanza, Kurt joins in, and he can barely hear Tina’s voice as well. 

_Waist deep in the Big Muddy_  
 _And the big fool says to push on._  
 _Waist deep in the Big Muddy_  
 _And the big fool says to push on._  
 _Waist deep! Neck deep! Soon even a_  
 _Tall man’ll be over his head, we’re_  
 _Waist deep in the Big Muddy!_  
 _And the big fool says to push on!_

The room is completely silent as Puck finishes, and Mr. Schuester frowns a little. “Is there a particular reason you wanted to sing that?”

“Next May, I turn eighteen,” Puck says. “There’s four guys in here who turn eighteen before I do, one who turns eighteen a year later, and one who turns eighteen pretty soon after me. That’s seven people that frankly I’d rather see not shipped off to kill Commies for no good reason.” Puck shrugs and walks back to his original seat. “Agree with me, disagree with me, but at least think about it.” 

 

Creating their set for regionals inspires some odd suggestions. Sam wants to do a voiceover of the _Star Trek_ introductory monologue, while those not speaking do an a capella version of the theme music. Rachel argues for a set of Broadway classics, and tries to get Kurt to agree. As her boyfriend, he knows he should, but he sits back and lets the others talk it back and forth, not adding his opinion until there’s already a coalition of five in favor of the set he ultimately supports, which does end up being the set they perform. Too early on a Saturday morning, everyone piles on the bus to head towards Columbus, and by some mysterious unspoken declaration, everyone starts sitting down as couples. Kurt stifles a sigh as Rachel drops into the seat beside him, and he wonders how he can manage the remaining year and three months until high school is over. 

Thankfully, Rachel spends most of the trip turned around and chattering with Quinn, and Kurt pulls out a book. 

“Reading?” Puck scoffs from the other side of the aisle. 

“Wouldn’t hurt you,” Kurt retorts, grinning slightly. “Remember, I know what your English grade is.”

“High enough to pass, high enough to play, high enough to graduate,” Puck says with a similar grin. “I’ll leave the pursuit of an A to people like you.” 

Kurt shakes his head, grinning wider in spite of himself. “You could attempt to pursue a B.”

“In English?” Puck snorts. “Nah. I read all of _Great Expectations_ and that Silas dude. That’s more than anyone probably expected, myself included.” 

“Shh!” Rachel says to both of them suddenly. “It’s time to do warm ups!”

They draw the first slot, and Kurt takes his place beside the rest of the boys as the music for ‘A Change Is Gonna Come’ starts to swell. After the initial solo, the rest of them join in for the remainder of the song, a few times emphasizing 0nly the boys or only the girls. 

_It’s been too hard living, but I’m afraid to die_  
 _’Cos I don’t know what’s up there beyond the sky_  
 _It’s been a long, a long time coming_  
 _But I know a change is gonna come, oh yes it will_

Kurt knows they did well placing it as the first song, and it flows well into their second number, ‘Stand By Me’. 

_When the night has come_  
 _And the land is dark_  
 _And the moon is the only light we’ll see_  
 _No I won’t be afraid_  
 _Oh, I won’t be afraid_  
 _Just as long as you stand, stand by me_

The audience seems to enjoy their choice, and Kurt doesn’t miss the looks between couples, even a few between some members of their own group. He determinedly doesn’t look towards Rachel, just as he’s avoided even glancing in her direction when they’ve rehearsed, and the music shifts to ‘I Hear a Symphony’, which showcases the girls’ voices beautifully, though Kurt can admit it doesn’t suit Rachel or Quinn as well as some other choices might have. 

_A symphony_  
 _A tender melody_  
 _Every time your lips meet mine_

The applause is good, lasting a little longer than it did at their Sectional competition, and the fourteen of them sit nervously in the theatre while the other two groups perform. For whatever reason, the private school group that they defeated during Sectional competition is at the Regional competition, and Puck leans forward to ask Mr. Schuester why. 

“One of the other Sectional winners had to forfeit, and Galton applied under some obscure rule where they check the balloting and the number of points the judges assigned to all Sectional competitors in the region to determine who replaces a winner. It did turn out that they were the next-highest score in the region. Sounds fishy, though. How’d they know they would benefit?”

Kurt shrugs, frowning slightly. It does seem odd, and he notices that they feature the same soloist on all three songs, the same soloist who took lead billing at the Sectional competition. 

“I think he’s like us,” Puck whispers at the end of the set, covered by the applause.

“Their soloist?” Kurt says. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck shakes his head. “Look at him.”

“I don’t really see it,” Kurt admits. “But I suppose it’s possible.” He watches the boy accept congratulations from the other members of his chorus as they sit down. 

“You interested?” Puck asks, and Kurt shakes his head. He’s not, not interested in that boy who sings all of the solos and goes to a school that costs more per year than Kurt’s father has ever earned in a year, most likely. He hears Puck mutter something in response, and he turns to ask Puck to repeat it, but Puck just shakes his head. 

Forty-five minutes later, they are the winners of the Regional competition, heading to the National competition, and Kurt can barely believe it. _New York_ – it’s not the heady paradise that Puck makes San Francisco out to be, but it’s still a place away from Lima, away from Ohio, and the idea of several days in New York at the beginning of June sounds amazing. 

 

The next evening, Puck is still in Kurt and Finn’s room after dinner, after a day of tutoring and goofing off, and Kurt turns on the television set so they can watch Johnson’s speech on Vietnam. Finn looks at them apologetically. “I’m going to go watch with Mom,” he says. “Just— I thought maybe Burt would back off a little, if I watched with them.”

“Thanks, Finn,” Kurt says, genuinely appreciative. It might not help, but it probably won’t hurt. 

The speech is coming to a close, nearly forty-five minutes later, when Johnson starts speaking about the presidency being involved in partisan division. Kurt frowns slightly and exchanges a glance with Puck, realizing for the first time that Puck’s arm is almost around Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Accordingly, I shall not seek, and I will not accept, the nomination of my party for another term as your President,” President Johnson says on the screen, and Kurt gasps. He doesn’t register the rest of the speech, short though the remainder is, and he stares at Puck. 

“He just said— he’s not running!”

“He’s not running!” Puck says, jubilant. “We might be able to get Kennedy in! Or McCarthy!”

“This could end it,” Kurt says, feeling awestruck. “This could end the war.” 

Kurt isn’t sure which one of them stood first, or how exactly they ended up standing, grinning at each other, but he does know he reaches out and takes Puck’s hand, and finally something feels right. Puck glances at their hands, then the television, and Kurt hadn’t known that Puck could grin so widely. That’s the last full thought he has as Puck slings his other arm around Kurt and pulls him close, and then Puck is kissing him. 

They’re kissing, kissing in the middle of Kurt and Finn’s bedroom, and it’s a dangerous place as well as probably the safest place, the two of them wrapped around each other, and part of Kurt’s mind is singing _finally_. Finally kissing doesn’t feel like a chore, but something he wants, and something he wants to continue as long as possible. He wouldn’t object to things progressing beyond kissing, either, another realization that hits him with a jolt. All of his personal knowledge is being proven, because he wants someone, at last, wants _Puck_ , and he almost glares at Puck when he pulls away. 

“They’re moving around up there,” Puck explains quietly, taking another step back and sitting down in front of the still–running television.

“Oh.” Kurt sits heavily. “Finn’s at the shop with Dad tomorrow afternoon.”

“Is that an invitation?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Kurt nearly growls, and then he smooths down his shirt as he hears Finn coming down the stairs. 

“Wow!” Finn says. “I guess you guys are excited?”

“Yes,” Kurt says again, almost before he remembers _why_ he’s supposed to be excited. He must startle slightly, because he hears Puck snicker. 

“Yeah, definitely,” Puck answers Finn. “It’s a gamechanger.”

 

The next four days are the happiest Kurt can remember since he was small. After school, Kurt tells Rachel he has so much to study, and so much to help Puck with, that he couldn’t possibly even get a shake downtown with her. He and Puck hurry to Kurt’s house, locking the basement door and spending approximately fifteen minutes attempting to study before giving up and starting to kiss. On Monday, all they do is kiss, kissing for at least two hours, their hair thoroughly tangled from their hands by the time they hear Carole arrive at the house. 

On Tuesday, Puck pulls the collar of Kurt’s shirt aside, kissing up and down Kurt’s neck, and Kurt puts his hands on Puck’s waist, sliding them barely under Puck’s untucked shirt. On Wednesday, their shirts come off, their hands sliding up and down bare skin as they continue kissing, and on Thursday, Kurt barely waits to reach the bottom of the stairs before he starts unbuttoning his shirt. Puck laughs, doing the same, and Kurt runs his fingers through Puck’s hair. 

“I almost did that during rehearsal today,” Kurt explains. “That wouldn’t have been the best.”

“We could have told them it was some kind of acting thing,” Puck says, still chuckling. “How long do we have?”

“Only an hour today. Are you staying for dinner?” 

“Unless your dad’s cooking.”

Kurt laughs. “No, not Dad.” 

The two of them have shirts back on and hair presentable before Carole arrives home an hour later, and Kurt tutors Puck until dinner, after which they all go into the living room to watch the evening news. There’s nothing odd about the news, and Kurt and Puck stay upstairs with Burt and Finn to watch television. 

When the news breaks in, Kurt doesn’t know what he expects, but the announcement that is read is not it. It’s stark and simply put, that Martin Luther King Jr. has been shot and killed in Memphis, and Kurt feels a wave of despair rush over him. 

“That’s a joke, right?” Kurt whispers, even though he knows it isn’t. 

“How— I don’t understand,” Finn says. “That’s not right.”

“This is going to create more violence,” Burt says sadly, shaking his head. 

Puck is still staring at the television, his jaw dropped slightly, and it isn’t until Kurt notices the tear in the corner of Puck’s eye that he realizes he himself is crying. “Puck?” Kurt whispers, and it’s probably the most foolish thing Kurt could do, but he leans forward enough to hopefully conceal that he grabs Puck’s hand and squeezes. 

“I’m going to go tell Carole,” Burt announces, standing up, and Finn wanders into the kitchen a few moments later. 

“I— I don’t know what to think,” Puck admits. “I never thought this would happen.”

“Me either,” Kurt whispers. “You should probably either go home now or stay tonight.”

“Oh. Damn.” Puck’s eyes widen. “Things could get bad. Like they said.”

“Yes.” Kurt closes his eyes. “I’ll go talk to Dad.” 

The halls the next morning are subdued. Kurt thinks that’s probably the best way to characterize it. Some people are openly weeping, a few of the ruder students are trying to act like it doesn’t matter, but overall, everything is quiet, and during chorus, there’s no singing, just all of them sitting and trying to make sense of the fact that the man they saw speak in January is dead. Kurt can’t comprehend it, even though he knows it’s true, and on Friday afternoon, he and Puck just sit, hands wrapped together.

 

Their stolen afternoons can’t last; Kurt knows that, and knew it even before the assassination. He and Puck still spend a great deal of time together, of course, between classes, studying, chorus rehearsals, and off-season football practices. There’s very little time alone, though, not when they also have to fit in dates with their respective girlfriends. 

Kurt breathes a small sigh of relief when Finn breaks up with Santana and starts dating Quinn again; Rachel and Quinn once again institute double dates, and sometimes they do make it a triple date, adding Puck and Lauren. Still, Kurt feels like he and Puck are lucky to get a few minutes alone for a brief kiss. 

Near the end of April, Kurt and Puck are downstairs, ostensibly studying, but Finn is upstairs in the kitchen, meaning they can’t really do much besides sit closer together. “We should go to Indianapolis next week,” Puck says suddenly. 

“Why?” Kurt asks. 

“Bobby Kennedy’s going to be there. We should go. Why not? It’s not really that far.”

“No,” Kurt agrees. “It’s not. Are we taking anyone with us?”

“We’ll see if Finn wants to go?” Puck suggests. “Not the girls, though.”

Kurt makes a face. “Rachel would complain about it not being appropriate for a date, even though she’d actually enjoy it.” 

Puck laughs. “Yeah, probably.”

“On the other hand, she’s already started dropping hints to me that she won’t be staying in Lima.” Kurt smirks, feeling smug. 

“Yeah, you managed to pick a good one,” Puck says. “Lauren’s so far from even implying she’d need to drop hints, I just hope she doesn’t dump me too _soon_.”

“What’s up?” Finn calls as he starts down the stairs, and Kurt and Puck slide farther apart. 

“Want to go see Bobby Kennedy next week, in Indy?” Puck asks. 

“Sure!” Finn grins. “Just us?”

“Yes, just the three of us,” Kurt says, nodding. “Unless you think some of the other boys would want to go.”

“Probably not,” Finn says. “Anyway, they can go on their own.”

The next week on Friday, Finn and Kurt leave the house earlier than usual for school, which gets them an odd look from Carole, but Kurt mentions a project that they need the library for, and she nods them off to school. Instead of going towards the school, however, Kurt picks up Puck and they set off towards Indianapolis. 

Kurt isn’t sure why, exactly, it seems so much more difficult suddenly to keep his hands to himself. Of course, he’s sure a good portion of it is that he never had a specific person to keep his hands away from, before the last month or so, but it means the stakes are even higher, which somehow makes it that much harder. 

They don’t get very close to Bobby, but they watch his car pass and manage to hear most of his speech before they decide they need to head back to Lima. It’s well past the time school is out, though, when they reach Lima, and Puck frowns. 

“We should go get some burgers or see a movie, be seen here in town,” Puck says. “In case the school didn’t call your parents.”

“Hey, yeah, good idea,” Finn agrees, nodding, so Kurt steers towards the Dairy King, where they are in fact spotted by some neighbors before they leave. 

Kurt and Finn drop Puck off, and when they get home, Burt and Carole are out, probably at a movie themselves. Kurt falls into bed, worn out from driving but happy, even if he really didn’t get to touch Puck the entire day. 

 

The advantage to having dated Rachel for so long is that Kurt doesn’t even have to ask her about prom; she simply assumes that of course they’re going together, and turns her attention to what she’ll wear and who exactly they’ll eat dinner with before the dance. 

Puck doesn’t have things quite so easy; he asks Lauren three times before she gives in. “I think she wants me to court her or something,” Puck says with a disgusted sigh one afternoon. “When’s Finn due back?”

“Not for another hour or two. Dad’s trying to teach him some of the basics at the shop. If he apprentices with dad, he won’t have to worry about JC.”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck nods. “So he’s for sure staying here in Lima after next year?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Kurt shrugs a little sadly. Finn doesn’t know it, of course, but Kurt won’t be staying, and while they haven’t been brothers all that long, it still makes him somewhat sad to think about being across the country. He doesn’t see any other outcome, though, because whatever else happens, Kurt does not want to become Hiram Berry. He also doesn’t want to cause someone else to become Shelby Corcoran Berry. 

“Too bad. Maybe he’ll come visit.” Puck looks a little distressed at the thought, too; maybe they’ll find a way to tell Finn ahead of time where they’re going, so he can contact them eventually. 

“Maybe so,” Kurt agrees. “But since we have a bit of time…”

“We should take advantage of it,” Puck agrees, pulling Kurt into a kiss. They never continue for as many minutes or hours as the house is supposed to be empty; kissing, sometimes their shirts off, and they’re always dressed, hair and clothes straightened—or as straightened as Puck’s ever are—thirty minutes before anyone else is supposed to be around. Still, it’s better than nothing, and before Finn comes home, they spend the remaining time brainstorming about ways Puck can ‘court’ Lauren without actually committing himself to more than he wants. 

The night of prom arrives with Lauren at least partially mollified, and the entirety of chorus ends up together at dinner: Kurt with Rachel, Finn with Quinn, Santana with Sam, Puck with Lauren, Mike with Tina, Brittany with Artie, and Matt with Mercedes, though the latter three couples all insist they’re attending together as friends only. Kurt thinks it’s only a matter of time before Mike and Tina start dating again; he doesn’t see Matt and Mercedes ever being anything but friends, primarily because they resent being forced together in certain situations. Kurt can’t really blame them, either, but he knows that Mr. Schuester, at least, tries to avoid it. 

They arrive after the dance has already started, and as the song ends, the Troggs’ ‘Love is All Around’ starts to play. 

“Dance, Puckerman,” Lauren commands, and Puck follows her as Rachel drags Kurt onto the dance floor as well. Kurt feels stiff and uncomfortable the entire evening, especially when there’s slow songs and he’s expected to dance close to Rachel, closer than he’s ever really been to her. 

That’s all she expects, luckily, having warned him ahead of time not to expect to get any further because it’s prom. Kurt knows Puck and many of the other boys got similar warnings; he spares a thought for those that would have actually enjoyed going farther. Still, prom doesn’t really make a big splash on Kurt’s thoughts, not with increasingly frequent rehearsals and preparations for the chorus trip to New York City for the National Competition at the beginning of June. Kurt and Puck have even less time alone than before; by the time rehearsals are over, there’s usually someone at one of their houses, even if it’s not Finn. Finally, Sunday, the day before they leave, Burt and Carole go somewhere in the afternoon, Finn goes to take Quinn out for a milkshake, and Kurt and Puck have the house to themselves for what should be at least two hours. 

“I can’t believe we’re alone,” Puck admits, pulling Kurt against him. 

“‘I think we’re alone now’,” Kurt sings, smiling a little. 

“‘Look at the way we gotta hide what we’re doing’,” Puck continues. 

“What would they say,” Kurt agrees, and he spins to kiss Puck. When Kurt had started really thinking about the trip to New York, he had hoped that perhaps he and Puck would be able to get away together for a bit. Instead, all fourteen of them, plus Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury, are going to be in just four hotel rooms. It means even less privacy than normal, and Kurt wants to take full advantage of the afternoon alone together. 

“I wish we had more time,” Puck says nearly an hour later, both of them on Kurt’s bed shirtless. “I want— I want so many things, Kurt.” 

“I know.” Kurt sighs. “I don’t know when we’re going to get those things.”

“Sometimes I think about not playing it safe,” Puck admits. “We could get a motel room; go out US–30 to Upper Sandusky. Or hell, take Bellefontaine down to Bellefontaine. We could probably even get away with it, once.”

“Or even twice, if we waited long enough between times,” Kurt agrees. 

“But then after we got away with that, I don’t know, it’d be hard not to try to get away with more and more until—”

“Until someone suspects something,” Kurt interrupts, nodding. “Yes. I think so.” He sighs. “I’m not sure yet if summer will be better or worse.” 

“Probably both.” Puck kisses Kurt again, and they’re quiet, kissing and focusing on all the ways that they can’t touch, usually, until it’s too close to someone arriving at the house, and they get dressed, going upstairs to the kitchen. Kurt lets his hand linger too long when he passes Puck a can of pop, and then they don’t touch for the remainder of the day. 

 

Only a few of them had been on a plane prior to their trip, and Kurt knows he, too, is staring incredulously out his taxi window as they head to their hotel. Once they all arrive, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury assemble them to hand out keys and room assignments. 

“If you’re in a room with Miss Pillsbury or I, then one of the three of you will have a key. If you’re a room with just students, two of you will have a key. Be sure to stay with at least one person at all times!” Mr. Schuester reads off the room assignments after that, and Kurt isn’t sure if he’s happy with them or not. He, Puck, and Finn are all in the same room, which is nice, but they’re with Mr. Schuester, which is less nice. 

“You should take the second key,” Finn says to Kurt in an undertone as Mr. Schuester continues reading out the room assignments. “You and me and Puck will probably all be together most of the time, and you’re the least likely to lose it.”

“Okay,” Kurt agrees, and once all the keys and assignments are distributed, Kurt picks up his suitcase as they all find their rooms. 

“Two to a bed,” Mr. Schuester says cheerfully. 

“We’ll take this one,” Kurt says, sitting on the bed closest to the window, as Puck smirks at Finn and sits on it. 

“Guys,” Finn groans, and Kurt shrugs. 

“You take up a lot of the bed, Finn.” 

“Ohhh.” Finn nods. “Yeah, okay.” Reassured that they aren’t trying to make him sleep with Mr. Schuester so much as claiming more space for themselves, Finn beams at Mr. Schuester, who does look slightly chagrined. 

Four nights in the same bed, with Finn and Mr. Schuester nearby, isn’t really much, but it’s four more nights than they’ve ever spent in the same bed before. 

Tuesday passes in a flurry of rehearsals and going to the top of Empire State Building; Wednesday morning is a final run-through and more sightseeing ahead of their 3:30 call time. 

“I know all of you are going to be fantastic!” Mr. Schuester says, enthusiastic to the end, and Kurt sighs. Rachel is the only one of them who is completely happy with their set list. While Kurt and some others had agreed in theory with selecting Broadway standards for the National Competition, Kurt isn’t sure how well it will hold up in practice. 

They take their places on the risers and the music for their first number begins. Only the girls are singing on ‘Cinderella, Darling’, and Kurt makes himself pay attention to not only Rachel’s portion, but also Quinn and Lauren’s parts, so he can help Finn and Puck compliment their girlfriends; Finn tries hard, but Quinn often judges him as falling short. 

_We were raised on you, darling,_  
 _And we’ve loved you ever since._  
 _Don’t mess up on measure miracle._  
 _Don’t, Cinderella,_  
 _Don’t take down the prince._

The girls smile brightly through the applause as the music transitions to ‘New York! New York’ from _On the Town_ , and Kurt takes a deep breath in preparation to begin. 

_New York, New York, a helluva town._  
 _The Bronx is up, but the Battery’s down._  
 _The people ride in a hole in the groun’._  
 _New York, New York, it’s a helluva town!_

The applause is at a similar level to the girls’ number, and then they prepare for their final number, ‘Tradition’ from _Fiddler on the Roof_ , which Rachel had campaigned for heavily and Puck had campaigned against equally as heavily. In the end, however, Rachel and her supporters had won out, and it had taken its place as the third and final song in their set. 

Luckily for Puck, the initial shouting of ‘tradition’ had been offered to Finn, who had accepted so Puck wouldn’t have to. 

Kurt sings the part of the ‘sons’, along with Sam, Mike, and Matt, as well as all of the chorus parts, and he sighs mentally as he sings. 

_At three, I started Hebrew school. At ten, I learned a trade._  
 _I hear they’ve picked a bride for me. I hope she’s pretty._

At times he feels too much like the sons; waiting for someone to pick a bride. He knows he’ll escape that fate, but the following summer still seems so far to go. 

In the end, Kurt feels like they did as well as they could, but he doesn’t feel particularly optimistic about being named in the top ten who will compete again the following day. On Wednesday evening, Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury take them to Delmonico’s for dinner, and once the lights are out, and Kurt and Puck can hear Mr. Schuester and Finn lightly snoring, Kurt presses closes to Puck.

They’re the best nights of sleep he’s ever had, there in New York, which makes the remaining year seem that much longer, but it’s Thursday morning, when they head to the lobby, that will remain his strongest memory of New York. ‘Mrs. Robinson’ is playing over the loudspeaker as Kurt, Puck, Finn, and Mr. Schuester step into the lobby, where people are standing in small clusters, looking stunned. 

Kurt looks around for anyone from their group; they’re all supposed to meet for breakfast. Before he can spot anyone, Rachel appears, thrusting a newspaper at Kurt. Kurt thinks that it says something about he and Puck that they reach out to grab the newspaper at the same time; they read the headline and then drop it at the same time. 

“That’s not funny!” Kurt snaps at Rachel. 

“It’s not a joke!”

“He’s not dead,” Kurt says. “Not— not again.” Because the _New York Times_ says it, clearly: Kennedy Is Dead, Victim of Assassin. 

“Oh, shit,” Puck says, and it’s a measure of Mr. Schuester, Kurt thinks, that he doesn’t reprimand Puck. “No. Just, no.”

“Why?” Kurt whispers, understanding why everyone looks so broken, and because he has to, he pulls Rachel to him, just as Lauren puts her arm around Puck, and all Kurt wants to do is cry. 

But he doesn’t, because that’s not what he’s supposed to do. He holds it in through watching the top ten groups, of which they are not a part, perform and he even holds it in through the last night in bed with Puck, the plane ride home, and the trip back to Lima from Columbus. It isn’t until Saturday afternoon, when Puck comes over so they can ostensibly watch a baseball game, that Kurt and Puck finally cry about Bobby Kennedy, arms around each other, the rest of the house empty. 

_Everything changed in the first months of 1968, for the United States, and for me, personally. My father and I stood on opposite sides of the war in Vietnam; I still carried on dating Rachel, even though in truth I was with Puck. Puck was who I wanted, and I was who he wanted, but it was hard to find time together, even as established best friends._

_More than that, though, we’d seen two of our heroes gunned down in just two months’ time, two men we’d traveled to see in person, and like the rest of the nation, we were left reeling. When school ended, I filled my schedule at Dad’s shop in such a way that I wouldn’t have to see Rachel as often, and Puck worked his own summer schedule around mine._

_On the day that we finished our junior year of high school, we agreed that we’d spend the next twelve months making our plans— our plans to avoid the draft, and our plans to leave Ohio behind entirely._


	3. Senior Year

  
_The summer of ’68 played out almost exactly how I wanted, so well that it was almost frightening. I told Dad that I wanted to start saving to buy a car, instead of always using a loaner from the shop, and he applauded my initiative. I talked about applying to OSU and Kent State, and maybe someplace like Northwestern as a dream school, and Dad said he was proud of my hard work in school. I took Rachel out on dates as little as I could, and every adult I knew commended my self-restraint and respect for her. I spent as much time with Puck as I could, sometimes tutoring him, sometimes making plans, and sometimes just kissing him, and Dad and Carole and even Finn said I was such a good friend._

_I was a complete fraud, and sometimes I felt bad about it, but most of the time, I took advantage of it._

_The money I was saving was going into an account my dad never looked at, and two weeks before school started, I gave most of it to Puck so we could buy the used Microbus Puck had found pretty cheap in Dayton. We didn’t even get any grief over two unrelated people being on the title. The college applications were a smokescreen; I also applied to a few places out in San Francisco, using Puck’s address. Rachel talked about her East Coast college plans, and I nodded politely. Puck and I talked about the war, about where other homosexuals were, and even if by some miracle the draft were over by the next June, we were still going to leave Ohio._

 

“Finn said I’m turning into a nerd,” Puck says as he sits on the couch in the basement. “Passing up a chance to go out in favor of political coverage on the television.”

“Does that mean I already am?” Kurt says, raising an eyebrow and accepting the can of pop from Puck. “A nerd, I mean.”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t know what else we’re using the last week of summer vacation for.” 

“I’m using it for the three Ps,” Kurt says primly. 

“Huh?” Puck asks. 

“Politics, protesting, and Puck,” Kurt says, laughing as he finishes the sentence, and Puck cuts off his laughter with an almost–desperate kiss. It’s true that they spend a great deal of time together, overall, but for the past week, little of it’s been alone time, thanks in part to back to school shopping and other matters. They’d watched the first night of the convention with Burt, Carole, and Finn, but the last Tuesday of summer vacation is theirs, Burt and Carole at some kind of meeting for parents of seniors, and Finn out with Quinn. 

“I like that,” Puck admits when he pulls away. “It’s almost too bad the convention is on tonight,” he adds. “We know how much time we have.” 

“Not long enough,” Kurt says with a sigh, throwing his leg over Puck’s legs and pulling Puck into another kiss. They alternate watching the speeches with making out, until the clock suggests they should only watch the speeches, and Burt and Carole do arrive back not too long after Kurt expects them. 

It’s the next night, when Puck joins all of them in the living room for the convention, that the evening news shows the protests worsening, the way the Chicago PD are beating the protesters, bystanders, and even medical personnel, and Kurt turns to Burt, furious. 

“I know what you said on Sunday, but how can you possibly condone this?” Kurt demands of Burt. “This isn’t about maintaining law and order.” 

Burt shifts uncomfortably. “We don’t know what happened just before any of these clips were filmed,” Burt argues. “Or what was edited. Maybe those cops felt threatened, Kurt. You can’t just take over a city because you don’t like a war overseas.” 

“They’re using tear gas!” Kurt says incredulously. “Just because they disagree with the war doesn’t mean the police should be bringing the war to them!” 

“Peaceful protest is one thing,” Burt says. “But you have to maintain order.” 

“They won’t even let the protests happen, they’re so eager to sweep any opposition under the rug,” Kurt retorts. “Who even cares about the election at this point, they’re like Tweedledum and Tweedledee!” 

“You might see things differently by the time that you’re voting in a presidential election,” Burt says. 

“And until then, unfortunately, I have to rely on those over eighteen to do the right thing, which they haven’t so far and definitely are not right now!” Kurt explodes, gesturing at the television. 

“You weren’t there!” Burt thunders. “You don’t know what it was like! Those police officers were probably terrified, a group that big.”

“Terrified of what? They weren’t armed!” Kurt shoots back, and he’s vaguely aware that Carole, Finn, and Puck are all slowly leaving the living room, though at Carole’s direction. 

“That’s a lot of angry, delusional people in one spot.”

“Delusional? For wanting the war to end?” Kurt says, his hands curling into fists. “I don’t understand you. Having a difference of opinion isn’t delusional!”

“In this case, yeah, I think it is,” Burt says. “If the Communists take Vietnam, Kurt, they’re going to take all of southeast Asia.” 

“The government in South Vietnam is corrupt! Shouldn’t the people in Vietnam decide who their leader is, not Americans? And especially not at the price of American soldiers dying!” Kurt says, shaking his head. “This isn’t a good way to do foreign policy, Dad!”

“I’m done,” Burt announces abruptly, turning off the television set as soon as he stands. “I can’t discuss it with you when you’re hysterical.”

“Hysterical?” Kurt says flatly. “Anyone that disagrees with you is hysterical?” Burt doesn’t answer, though, just heads down the hall to his and Carole’s bedroom, and Kurt lets out a loud breath as Carole follows him, giving instructions to Finn to lock up. 

“See you tomorrow,” is the first thing Finn says that really registers, and Kurt looks up when he realizes Puck is leaving. 

“Yeah, tomorrow,” Puck agrees, nodding at Finn. He looks anxiously at Kurt, and Kurt manages a tight smile in an attempt to reassure Puck. Kurt _would_ like a kiss, or even a hug, but he knows it’s not possible, and Puck leaves with another nod and a wave, and Finn locks the door behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” Finn says as they head down to their room. 

“It’s not your fault.” Kurt sighs and starts to change into his pajamas. “We’re hardly the only father and son fighting over this damn war.” 

 

The first day of Kurt’s senior year goes as Kurt expects. Everyone acts like they haven’t seen everyone in two and a half months, even though everyone’s run into each other at Dairy King, Kewpee, or the drive-in. All of the seniors, Kurt included, use their status as seniors to get to classes late, claiming falsely that they had trouble finding the right room. Mr. Schuester gives the entire chorus a pep talk, including a discussion of bringing in new members, since so many of them are seniors. 

After classes are over, there’s football practice, and Kurt grimaces to himself as he changes. Just a handful more games, a few months, and he can leave football behind. He’ll still be considered a football player until the end of the year, and he’ll have the protection he knows it brings him, but no more practices, and when he and Puck leave, he won’t have to feign interest in the game again. 

“Did Burt talk to you about bringing Rachel to dinner on Thursday?” Finn asks as they trot off the field at the end of practice. “I’m supposed to see if Quinn wants to come, too. Some kind of thing because we’re seniors.”

“Yes.” Kurt nods. “Rachel has already informed me that she can’t wait. I just hope Dad’s taken me seriously when I’ve said Rachel will be leaving Ohio, and our relationship will end with high school.”

“That’s a bummer,” Finn says, shrugging a little. “At least you know about it! I don’t know if Mom and Quinn expect me to propose to Quinn or not.” Finn removes his helmet and brushes his hand through his hair. “I don’t feel like I’m old enough to even think about it.”

“Tell me about it,” Puck says, coming up on Finn’s other side. “I’m glad Lauren doesn’t want to get hitched.” There’s an unspoken conversation between Puck and Kurt while Finn takes a long drink of Gatorade; if either Lauren or Rachel loses interest too soon in the school year, one of them has to find yet another girl who won’t expect a ring for Christmas, Valentine’s, or graduation. 

“Yeah, I mean, who knows what’s going to happen, right?” Finn says, frowning a little. “Kurt’s going to go off to college, and I want to get better at cars and working at the shop, and Puck, are you going to do your pool and landscaping stuff full time?”

“Maybe,” Puck says evasively; Kurt and Puck haven’t really talked yet about what job Puck will get once they make it to San Francisco. “If Quinn gets pushy, you could go back to Santana,” Puck says to Finn, changing the subject. 

“What about Sam?”

“Rachel informed me this morning that Sam and Santana broke up over the summer,” Kurt says, shrugging. “It seems like Sam would have brought it up, but then, we didn’t see him very often.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Finn says, frowning. “I mean, I’m not going to, just because Sam broke up with Santana! Or.” Finn stops and his eyes widen. “Did Santana break up with _him_?”

“I don’t know,” Kurt admits. “I suppose we’ll be able to tell by how Santana and Quinn treat each other.”

Finn groans. “If anyone calls tonight, Kurt, I have a lot of homework.” He turns to Puck. “Are you coming over after dinner?”

“I didn’t miraculously become fluent in French over the summer,” Puck points out. “See you later.” The three of them head into the showers, and Kurt puts his hand against the wall, staring at the faucet. 

“It’s September third,” he whispers, his mind viewing a calendar. Less than a year until they can leave; that sounds optimistic. Close to a year to navigate, pretending to be like everyone else; that sounds far less optimistic. Kurt finishes his shower after everyone else, because it’s easier to linger than to speed through dressing. When he gets outside to the cars, Finn is one of the only ones in the parking lot, leaning against the latest loaner car from the shop. 

“You think we’re having pot roast?” Finn asks eagerly. “It’s the first day of school. And I’m starving!”

“I am, too,” Kurt says, throwing his bags in the backseat. “I can’t believe we actually have homework. It’s the first day of our senior year!” 

“At least we have a few weeks before chorus rehearsals really start up,” Finn points out. “And Mr. Schuester had a good idea, using some of our songs from the regional and national competitions last year, for the PTA and assembly performances.” 

“That’s true. Thank goodness for that,” Kurt says. “I have to fill out my college applications this fall, as well.” And he does, all five of them. One of them off to City College of San Francisco, and one to San Francisco State College, in addition to the applications that his family knows about. “You could take classes at JC, you know.”

“Yeah, I may take a few,” Finn admits. “Burt says some business classes might be good to have, and I could play football another year or two.” 

Kurt nods and falls silent. Finn will turn eighteen before either Puck or Kurt, in December, and will have to register for the draft. Kurt isn’t sure that JC will count as a student deferment; he and Puck had tried to decipher the rules over the summer but hadn’t felt like they could ask anyone locally to clarify. Kurt isn’t sure what Finn will do, if his draft number comes up. Kurt hopes Finn wouldn’t report, but he knows the chance of that is probably low, and Kurt hopes that JC will be enough to keep Finn safe. 

 

Kurt tips his head back against his locker after a shortened practice, three weeks into the school year. Their game that evening is an away game, which means they’re expected to eat dinner and report back within forty-five minutes. Rachel has been complaining all week about the game, because she wants to go see the new movie _Funny Girl_ instead of watching the game, and if Kurt were to be honest, he also would rather watch the movie. Instead, they’re heading to Delphos to face off against Jefferson High, which does amuse Kurt. McKinley vs. Jefferson. 

His facade is holding up, to the point that he feels it’s holding up far too well. Football practice, Rachel, get-togethers with all of the boys in chorus, studying, and chorus rehearsals, on top of school, mean that Kurt and Puck have had very little time alone, and Kurt doesn’t see that changing over the weekend. Because Rachel is so upset about the game and the movie, Kurt is taking her to the first possible showing on Saturday, and then he has work at the shop before all of the guys in chorus are getting together yet again. 

“Sunday,” Kurt murmurs to himself. “Sunday morning.” 

“Did you say something, Kurt?” Finn asks from the end of the row. “C’mon, we don’t have long to grab our burgers.” 

“Oh, nothing,” Kurt says, reassuring Finn with a brief smile. “Just thinking outloud. Yes, let’s get our burgers.” Kurt stands up and follows Finn from the locker room, most of the team having agreed to meet up at Kewpee for their dinner. 

Being the kicker leaves Kurt too much time to think as he waits on the sidelines. He’s known for so long that he is a homosexual, and it’s even been more than a year since he first learned that Puck is, as well, but the relationship part, the part that makes him happy, is newer, and Kurt hadn’t really thought about how the autumn would feel, hiding it. 

It doesn’t feel good, though. The other players have their girlfriends’ congratulations after stellar plays and a winning game, and Kurt has Rachel’s, even, but it doesn’t change that he wishes he could get a kiss from Puck, or do the same for Puck, instead of Lauren. Kurt wishes he could put a hand over Puck’s, or have their arms around each other, the way that Rachel expects. Kurt knows why it has to be the way it is, because they have to graduate high school and turn eighteen, but sometimes he has to really remind himself that it will be worth it, in less than a year. 

They have the Microbus now, and Puck teases Kurt about looking out of place in it, and Kurt fires back with a comment about the dress code. Puck usually shakes his head, hair flying, and Kurt laughs at that. 

“You’re up,” Finn says suddenly beside him, and Kurt startles before heading onto the field for yet another field goal. He sometimes thinks that Finn doesn’t try as hard for a touchdown, knowing Kurt hasn’t missed a single field goal in over two seasons. This one sails between the uprights as usual, and Kurt jogs back off the field. Rachel beams and blows Kurt a kiss, which he smiles about as the other members of the team thump his pads and tell him good job. Kurt sinks back onto the bench and sighs. Just seven more games. 

 

“And to have a musical come out again this weekend is lovely!” Rachel chirps as they enter the drive-in. No one at McKinley knows that Kurt’s the half-owner of the Microbus, but regardless, Rachel, Quinn, and Lauren had somehow come to an agreement that there would be a triple date to see _Oliver!_ using the Microbus. And that is how the six of them ended up at the drive-in on Saturday evening, though by some miracle they had managed to make it seem absolutely believable and necessary for Kurt to drive. Rachel had refused to sit in the passenger seat, however, claiming she couldn’t converse as easily with Quinn or Lauren, which is how the three girls ended up in the rearmost seat, Finn stretching out in the middle, and Puck in the passenger seat. 

Kurt can hear Rachel continuing on with her discussion as they pay and enter, finding a spot, and then Finn climbs out. “I’m going to go get all of the food. Puck, Kurt, you want to come with me? I’ll need help carrying all of it.”

“Sure,” Kurt acquiesces, because he knows what the looks he’s been shooting Puck mean, and he can’t give in to staying in the Microbus. Not when he’s already tempted to try something that he shouldn’t, not in public. He climbs out of the Microbus, studiously not looking at Puck, but he can feel Puck’s gaze land on him for a moment. 

“Hey,” Puck says slowly as the three of them walk towards the concessions. “Isn’t that Sam’s car?” The older red Bel Air is definitely Sam’s car, but he’s not sitting in it. The driver’s seat is empty, and in the passenger seat, Kurt sees Mercedes. 

“Oh,” Kurt says slowly. “Keep walking.”

“But, was that…” Finn trails off. “That’s why Sam insisted he wasn’t dating anyone?”

“We all hear enough about the fact that we sing with Mercedes and Matt,” Kurt points out. “What would Sam hear, and what would Mercedes hear, if it got out they went to the drive-in together?”

“You think they’ve been dating since the summer?” Puck asks, looking back over his shoulder. “Even coming to the drive-in’s a risk. I wouldn’t do it unless it was way past the first date.”

“Where would they have gone before?” Finn asks, a question that neither Kurt nor Puck has an immediate answer to. The question of whether or not their assumptions are correct is answered when they get in line for food. Sam spots them with a very uneasy grin. 

“Hey, guys. I have no idea what this movie’s about,” Sam confesses. “I didn’t actually read _Oliver Twist_.”

“Yeah, me either,” Puck says. “Kurt read part of it, though. And I passed my essay.” 

Kurt shakes his head and smiles ruefully at Puck, then looks back at Sam. “It does seem to make the girls quite happy to come to it, though.”

“Yeah, it does— oh, crap.” Sam’s eyes widen. “Guys…”

“Hey, what do you think of us?” Finn says, half-joking. “We get why you wouldn’t have said anything. That’s all.” 

“Exactly, my man,” Puck says, nodding, and Kurt nods along with him. Puck and Kurt can thoroughly understand why Sam wouldn’t say anything. “We’ve got your back.”

Sam breaks into a relieved grin. “Thanks, guys,” he says, hefting his concessions. “I’m going to get back, then. Enjoy the movie.”

“You too,” Kurt says, Puck and Finn echoing the sentiment, and they move closer to the counter. 

“Good for them,” Puck says after a moment of silence passes. 

“Yeah, it’s good they’ve got us,” Finn adds with a nod. “Are there _any_ other,” Finn lowers his voice slightly, “interracial couples in Lima?”

Puck shrugs. “Mom’s talked about some ‘mixed’ couples but she meant one of them not being Jewish. I think we’d have heard of another couple.”

“I agree.” Kurt lets out a slow breath. “I hope Sam’s family and Mercedes’ family are supportive.”

“Yeah.” Finn nods soberly. “I’m going to talk to Mom this weekend.” Kurt isn’t sure if Finn means about Kurt and Finn’s support for Sam and Mercedes, or in case either of Sam or Mercedes’ families turns out not to be supportive. In the end, Kurt assumes, it will be the same conversation. 

“Well,” Kurt says after they finally have their food. “Let’s go find out how they made _Oliver Twist_ into a musical.” 

 

Musicals continue to be the dominant force in Kurt’s life, as posters for the senior year musical go up around the school the next Tuesday. Kurt wants to try out, but he admits to himself that adding rehearsals seems like a poor plan. Still, when Rachel bounds up beside him to sign up for an audition slot, Kurt finds himself signing his name before they walk down the hall, arm in arm. 

“I’m practically guaranteed Maria,” Rachel says. “Who else could do her part justice? And of course you should be Tony to my Maria.” 

“Oh, I don’t—”

“Who else would it be? You’re perfect for the role,” Rachel argues. “It’s as if Mr. Schuester, Ms. Pillsbury, and the arts faculty tried to find the musical to best showcase the two of us, Kurt.” She stops and smiles up at Kurt. “It’ll be so much fun!”

The problem, Kurt realizes, is that there isn’t a reason for him not to try out for Tony, no reason except that he misses having alone time with Puck, and he can’t state that to anyone except Puck. Even that’s hard to do, because of the lack of time alone. He tries out with “Love, I Hear,” and three days later, the cast list is posted. 

“Congratulations,” Puck’s voice says in his ear as he stands at his locker.

“What?”

“ _West Side Story_ ,” Puck says, leaning against the other lockers and glaring at a member of the basketball team who tries to get into his locker. “You’re Tony. Rachel’s Maria, and I’m some guy named Bernardo.”

“Too bad,” Kurt muses quietly. “I was almost hoping you’d be Officer Krupke.”

“You just wanted to see me in that uniform,” Puck teases equally quietly. 

“No, just the absolute irony,” Kurt says, straightening and pulling out his books for his classes. “Any costume can be tailored.”

“You’d better be well-tailored,” Puck whispers, then pushes off the locker and heads down the hall. Kurt shakes his head and smiles to himself, then walks down the hall to the noticeboard, because of course no one expects his—well, his boyfriend, he says to himself mentally, smiling a bit wider—to have checked early in the morning, apparently with the sole intent of being first to congratulate Kurt. 

“I’ll have to get some flowers for Rachel later,” Kurt mutters to himself, staring at the cast list, and beside him, he feels more than sees the other boys nod. 

“I knew I should have thought of that before I got excited about Tina and I trying out,” Mike says jokingly, and everyone laughs as the bell rings. Kurt heads down the hall towards homeroom, mentally adding the rehearsals to his already–full schedule. 

They have just six weeks between the day the cast list goes up and the weekend of the show, and as one of the leads, Kurt is required to be at almost every rehearsal. Mr. Schuester and the rest of the arts faculty do at least work around football practices and games, as well as chorus rehearsals, but by the fourth weekend of getting up for a three-hour Saturday morning rehearsal, Kurt feels worn out. 

When he gets back home, it’s well past lunchtime, and Kurt goes straight towards the kitchen to fix a sandwich before calling out. “Hello? I’m back!”

The house is silent, though, and then Kurt sees the note on the refrigerator. His dad and Carole have gone to Dayton for the day, and Finn is out with Quinn and also won’t be back until late. Before he can think about it any further, Kurt heads for the phone, his fingers almost automatically dialing Puck’s house. 

“Hello, Puckerman residence,” Puck’s mother answers. 

“Hello, Mrs. Puckerman, this is Kurt. May I please speak with Puck?”

“Of course.” There’s the sound of the phone being put down, and after a few minutes, being picked up again. 

“Hey,” Puck says, in the overly–casual way that means his mom is still nearby. 

“They’re all away, for several hours. Perhaps I remembered about that big test you have next week?”

“Oh, yeah.” Puck must cover the phone, as the next words are muffled and directed, Kurt thinks, towards Puck’s mother. “Okay, sure, I’ll see you in twenty. Bye.” Kurt can hear Puck’s mother chiding him about his ‘telephone manners’, but Kurt hangs up and starts to hurriedly eat his sandwich. They may have hours, but he still wants to be done before Puck arrives. 

Kurt’s plate is washed and dried and barely put away when he hears the Microbus pull up, and Kurt smiles to himself as he heads to the door. “Hi,” he says as he opens it and Puck heads up the stairs. 

“I’m all ready for that study session,” Puck says with a smirk, jerking his head over his shoulder at his backpack. 

“Too bad they don’t offer credit for what we’ll be studying?” Kurt says, shutting the door and taking Puck’s hand as they head to the basement. 

“I feel like I haven’t really seen you,” Puck admits. He drops the backpack on the floor and wraps both arms around Kurt, and Kurt kisses him slowly, the intensity of the kiss quickly building. Kurt knows what Puck means; he can’t remember the last time he kissed Puck without wondering if someone would come down the stairs, and they’ve barely managed to hold hands for several weeks. 

The two of them have tried to learn about things they can do together, and over the summer, they had a little luck, but knowing and having the chance to do them are two entirely different things. Even today, knowing they have time, Kurt feels trepidatious about going too far, because really, they never know if someone might come home sooner than expected. It’s difficult, wanting to do more and more but never feeling safe, but Kurt and Puck at least agree that until more time has passed, it’s sadly not worth the risk. 

As upset as Lima will be when or if they find out about Sam and Mercedes, the fallout would be far, far worse for Puck and Kurt; they would have no hope of familial support, and Kurt is quite sure they wouldn’t have everyone in chorus behind them, either. 

They probably wouldn’t have _anyone_ in chorus behind them, if Kurt is very honest with himself.

Still, right now, Puck’s hands are on Kurt’s back, and Kurt’s arms are wrapped around Puck’s neck, because he loves to run his fingers through Puck’s hair, and when they separate, Kurt grins. 

“Not too close to dress code at the moment,” Kurt teases Puck. 

“Trying to time it so it’ll be over Thanksgiving that it really goes over,” Puck says, grinning back. “Barely trim it, and then I can do whatever when Christmas break comes along.”

“That works for me,” Kurt says with a matching grin. He runs his fingers through Puck’s hair again. “I can get by with about eight weeks, so I suppose if I want to fit in after we leave, I make my last haircut eight weeks before graduation exactly.”

“Depending on how long we stay after graduation, your dad will love that,” Puck points out. 

“Long-haired hippie, that’ll be me,” Kurt agrees, then decides that they’ve had enough talking. He and Puck start kissing again, and Kurt pulls them over onto the bed. Puck lands on top of him, laughing, and Kurt can’t help but laugh himself, into their next kiss, as they run their hands over each other. Minutes later, they sit up and remove their shirts, tossing them on the floor, and Kurt lets out a content sigh at the feeling of skin against skin. Puck’s fingers run over Kurt’s skin, the calluses from his guitar strings evident, and Kurt again thinks about how people don’t notice how precise and even delicate Puck’s hands really are. They skim over Kurt’s chest, circling the outside of his nipples, and Kurt traces his own fingers over Puck’s shoulder blades. 

Every touch is gentle, almost overly so, because they can never take a chance on leaving a mark. Not with football practice and dress rehearsals for the musical, and Kurt closes his eyes, wishing they didn’t have to be so careful. And even after they stop kissing and touching, their shirts stay off through dinner, and they sit too close for friends on the couch, watching television, until Kurt reluctantly puts his shirt back on and sends Puck on his way. It’s only one afternoon and evening, and Kurt knows that in terms of time management, they may regret not studying or doing other things, but for just one evening, Kurt and Puck were able to put each other first, and that, Kurt thinks, is better than most weekends. 

The final week of dress rehearsals starts the next Saturday, and Kurt is profoundly grateful that the football season ended the night prior. He’s particularly glad they didn’t qualify for playoffs, even though most of the rest of the team is disappointed. On Monday after school, Kurt heads to rehearsal for _West Side Story_ instead of football practice, but at least the end is nominally in sight. 

The show opens on Thursday evening, and Kurt realizes halfway through the production that he really has been practicing for the part for a very long time: pretending to be in love, or at least in romantic like, with Rachel. The performance goes off without any difficulties, and they repeat the stellar performance twice more before the curtain goes down for the last time on Saturday evening. 

Kurt of course has flowers waiting for Rachel backstage, and he overhears a few comments regarding how romantic it is, that Rachel played opposite her real-life boyfriend. Kurt ignores those, heading for his dressing room, when he overhears one final comment. 

“Did you see Sam Evans?” one of the girls from the chorus says with a giggle. “He’ll be starting quarterback next year. And he’s not dating anyone.”

“I heard he was,” another girl says. “Some kind of hush-hush thing.”

“Why?” the first voice says. “Why keep it quiet?” The girls move away, out of Kurt’s hearing, and he frowns. Some of the chorus knows, and a few don’t, but no one else should, and he sighs. 

Before he has too much time to contemplate it, however, Mr. Schuester gathers all of the cast for one final time. “Many of you are already members of our competition chorus,” he says. “For those of you who aren’t, though, especially underclassmen, I urge you to come by and give us a try. We still have time before our December sectional competition to add more members, and all of you have lovely voices.” 

Kurt has to acknowledge it’s a good strategy, and he notices a few of the cast members appear to be considering it. Finally, the backstage area starts to empty, and Rachel apologizes for not going out with him afterwards, explaining that her parents want to celebrate. It’s a relief, and Kurt fights hard not to let that relief show. 

“Only sectional competition left before the end of the year, now,” Puck says, falling into step with Kurt as they walk out to the parking lot. “I told Finn to go on, I’d give you a ride.” 

“Still more rehearsals,” Kurt points out wryly. “But you’re right. That’s something. I can’t say I’ll be sorry to say good-bye to 1968.” The election, earlier in the week, had gone to Nixon, but Kurt isn’t sure Humphrey would have been much better. Bobby Kennedy, yes, but that had ended months earlier, and Kurt still has to hold back tears when he thinks of it. 

“No,” Puck agrees. “I don’t think anyone particularly will be.” 

 

They do have five new members of chorus from the underclassmen who were involved in the musical, three boys and two girls. One of the girls is a tiny freshman who doesn’t speak but lets out a terrific sound when she sings, and the other can barely sing but has a well-off father, who owns several companies. Kurt admittedly takes even less notice of the boys that join, because they rarely speak up or sing with any real volume. 

The rehearsal schedule for their competition is at least less taxing than the schedule had been for _West Side Story_ , but there is something of a distraction simmering under the surface, as slowly more and more of the chorus learns about Mercedes and Sam. 

Finally, the week after Thanksgiving, Kurt realizes that Mr. Schuester and their five new members are the only ones who don’t know. He doesn’t know what everyone’s initial reactions were, and he thinks perhaps that doesn’t matter, because the reaction everyone has given publicly is one of support. 

“I think they should consider informing the others,” Kurt says quietly to Finn one evening before bed. 

“Sam and Mercedes?” Finn queries, then nods. “Yeah, then they’d have everyone behind them. And if people find out who are, well, rude, then at least one teacher knows.”

“Perhaps Miss Pillsbury as well,” Kurt muses. “It’s too much to hope that Principal Figgins himself would be supportive, however.” 

Finn laughs. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Their conversation turns to other things, and Kurt puts Sam and Mercedes out of his mind for a few days, worried about finding time with Puck, but three days before their competition, Kurt walks into the chorus room and smiles a little to himself, because Finn must have talked to Sam, and Sam and Mercedes are quietly holding hands, no one batting an eye. 

They go into their sectional competition as the heavy favorites, which has made Mr. Schuester concerned about them becoming complacent. It’s a fair concern, Kurt supposes, but everyone is genuinely enthusiastic about their chosen songs, and they’ve still rehearsed adequately. 

After the other two schools, including the same private school boys as the year before, they take their places on the risers and wait for their music to begin. The boys sing most of the melody on the first song, the girls only occasionally joining in with harmony. 

_Peggy Sue, Peggy Sue_  
 _Oh how my heart yearns for you._  
 _Oh P-e-ggy… P-e-ggy Sue_  
 _Oh, well, I love you gal_  
 _Yes I love you Peggy Sue_

They swap on ‘Oh Boy’, the girls predominantly carrying the melody and the boys harmonizing. 

_All of my love_  
 _All of my kissin’_  
 _You don’t know what you’ve been a-missin’_  
 _Oh boy, when you’re with me_  
 _Oh boy, the world can see_  
 _That you, were meant, for me_

Their final song is mixed voices, and Kurt takes a deep breath to prepare for ‘That’ll Be the Day’, to which they added a little bit of movement. It’s not enough to call choreography, but it’s something some of the top groups had done at the national competition, and Mr. Schuester thinks, probably correctly, that it will help them stand out. 

_Well, that’ll be the day, when you say goodbye_  
 _Yes, that’ll be the day, when you make me cry_  
 _You say you’re gonna leave, you know it’s a lie_  
 _’Cause that’ll be the day when I die_

The applause swells slowly and is sustained nicely, and Kurt thinks, as they file off the risers, that their position as front-runners is probably well-deserved, despite nicely done performances by the other two groups, and they do, in fact, take home the trophy and advance to the regional competition. 

“Happy almost Hanukkah to me,” Puck says softly as they walk out to the bus after the competition. “And Rachel, too.”

“One more week before the break.”

“Just over two weeks before we get rid of 1968,” Puck counters. Kurt smiles tiredly, dropping into a seat on the bus, but before Puck can sit down, Rachel squeezes past him and perches beside Kurt. 

“It’s so nice to be done before Hanukkah and Christmas as well,” Rachel says. “We’ll be ready to start on our regional competition set as soon as we come back in the New Year!”

 

The first week and a half of 1969 is smooth. Kurt and Puck even have a few hours to themselves over the first twelve days, Puck’s grades are on track for him to graduate, and Kurt gets his first acceptance for college, from one of the San Francisco schools. On the night of January 13, though, a crude oil line in south Lima ruptures, and suddenly Lima is thrown into turmoil as over seven thousand people are evacuated. Kurt isn’t sure what to think; he goes to school the next day and hears the anger in the black students’ voices, because most of those affected are black. 

Kurt knows, and Puck knows, and too many of them know, by the next day, that there are going to be National Guard troops in Lima, because of rioting, and Kurt wonders how long it will take for the fighting to make its way inside McKinley. 

He doesn’t have more than a few hours to wonder before he starts to overhear things in class. 

“I heard they were at Susie-Q Ranchhouse this weekend,” one voice says. 

“Plenty of the chorus kids go there all the time, though,” a quieter voice says, and Kurt pretends to be writing out the assignment on the board. “Since Susie-Q lets in the colored kids, too.”

“It was just the two of them,” the first voice says, and Kurt feels his stomach turn over unpleasantly. “I never thought Sam Evans would date a—”

Kurt loses the rest of the conversation, thankfully, as their teacher begins class, but the unpleasant sensation remains in his stomach, growing a little worse as he heads down the hall after class and overhears another, similar conversation. 

“What’s wrong?” Puck asks as they file into history. 

“I think our friends were on a date this weekend.” Kurt sighs heavily. “In Lima.”

Puck winces. “Bad timing.”

“Quite poor, yes,” Kurt agrees. The hallways are tense, and the classrooms not particularly less tense, but nothing happens overtly the remainder of the day. 

It’s Thursday morning, between homeroom and first period, when everything goes to hell. He doesn’t hear or see it start, two hallways over, but he hears it soon after, and like a lot of the students, he heads towards it, Finn just behind him. Unlike most of the other students, Finn and Kurt push forward even after they see what’s happening. 

What is happening is two guys that Kurt vaguely recognizes attacking Sam, yelling about him and Mercedes in very uncomplimentary ways, and Kurt spares a moment to hope Rachel and the other girls in chorus are taking care of it and getting Mercedes far away from the altercation. 

Because the boys are decidedly not running away. The two guys have friends join them just as Puck and Mike reach the fight, and Finn and Kurt get there alongside one more of the other boys. Kurt doesn’t even know what to call them, because they’re students, just like them, and seniors. Racists, maybe, and that’s all Kurt has time to think about as the fighting expands to include more and more people. Some of them, he’s sure, don’t even know what the fighting is about, seeing it as a chance to let off steam, but every black student involved does end up standing on the side where Sam is, where all of the chorus kids are standing, while Principal Figgins tries to figure out what has happened. 

“Who started it?” Figgins demands, and out of the corner of his eye, Kurt sees Sam, then Puck and Mike, disappear into the crowd. “Who started it?” Figgins demands again, as hands pull Kurt and Finn back, and Kurt realizes a few moments later what everyone is doing. The first of them to fight are all hidden, and when the others try to point them out, it’s not possible. Eventually Kurt finds himself at the back of the crowd, and Puck is waiting there. 

“Come on,” Puck says. “Get in your second period class, or hide in the chorus room.” 

“They’re going to be able to point out Finn.”

“Nah, they really want Sam most of all,” Puck says, though he doesn’t look completely convinced. “It wasn’t all about Sam and Mercedes.”

“No, some of it was about everything else,” Kurt agrees, because he knows it’s true. A lot of it was about the pipeline, the evacuations, and the National Guard, but an interracial couple suddenly being known – Kurt is sure it was a spark. 

All of them make it through the school day, somehow, and gather in the chorus room after school for rehearsal, but Mr. Schuester closes the door and sits on a stool, regarding them seriously. 

“I can’t overrule anything Principal Figgins does,” Mr. Schuester says solemnly. “If any of you are suspended or expelled, after multiple offenses, I can help you appeal that with the school board, but that’s all. What I can do, however, is suggest a few things. Travel together. Don’t linger in the hallways between classes. And the door to this room is always open for all of you.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Schuester,” Mercedes says quietly, sandwiched between Sam on one side and Quinn on the other, Rachel reaching across Quinn to take her hand. 

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam echoes, and the rest of them nod, murmuring their thanks as well, and after Mr. Schuester concludes the rehearsal, the nineteen of them agree to skip the following day, giving all of the external and internal turmoil Friday and the weekend to die down. 

By Monday, things are less tense, and Kurt breathes a very small sigh of relief, but they still make sure neither Mercedes nor Sam walks through the halls without a friend or two by their side. 

 

Valentine’s Day falls on a Friday evening, and there’s no real escaping taking the girls on individual dates, rather than a group date. Kurt makes his plans with Rachel, and then sits down and convinces his dad to take Carole away for the weekend. Harder to plan is a way to get Finn believably out of the house, especially since Quinn and her parents are going out of town to visit her older sister as soon as she gets back from her Valentine’s Day date. In the end, Puck suggests to Matt and the new guys that they have a guys’ night and invite Finn, and somehow they forget that Puck originated the idea. 

The end result is that by late Saturday afternoon, Finn is gone, and Kurt and Puck are on Kurt’s bed, making out and slowly taking off each other’s clothes. They don’t go as far as part of Kurt wants to, but he has the time to just look, to gaze at Puck’s body as much as he wants, instead of a locker room stolen glance, and vice versa. They get partially dressed for a late dinner of leftovers, and fully dressed before Finn gets home, close to midnight. Puck is already on the couch, where he’ll spend the night, and while Finn seems a little off, Kurt doesn’t think about it as anything but Finn being tired. 

The next morning, the three of them have breakfast and then lunch before Puck heads out mid-afternoon, and Kurt stares at a paper he’s supposed to be writing. 

“Kurt?” Finn says, sounding almost worried, and Kurt looks up with a frown. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you… okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Kurt asks, frowning more. “Is there something wrong?”

“I just wanted to make you knew that if—” Finn appears to be struggling with how to word what he’s saying, and Kurt can’t begin to guess. “If someone was making you do something, no matter who that person was, you could tell me, and I’d make them stop. Or make sure someone did.”

“Okay. I’m very confused,” Kurt admits, watching Finn and feeling worried himself. 

“Puck,” Finn blurts out. “If Puck’s making you do something, you can have someone else tutor him, or whatever.” 

“No, he’s not,” Kurt says slowly. “Why would you think that?”

“I forgot my jacket yesterday,” Finn says in a rush. “I went back up the stairs before I got to the bottom, but I still— you two were—”

Kurt closes his eyes, and the unpleasant turn of his stomach from January makes itself known again, twenty times worse. He feels cold suddenly, and he shivers. If Finn saw, if Finn knows— Kurt doesn’t know what to do. 

“Oh, hey, you’re turning _white_!” Finn says, then the bed dips and Kurt can feel Finn settle beside him. “It’s, oh, shit, I didn’t mean to freak you out!”

Kurt opens his eyes and takes a shuddering breath. “How on earth did you think it wasn’t going to ‘freak me out’?” he asks. 

“I just— I didn’t know.” Finn pauses. “So you both want that? Each other, I mean? Other boys?”

“Yes.” Kurt sighs and looks up the stairs, even though he knows Burt and Carole aren’t home. “We’re both homosexuals. Or apparently some people are using the word ‘gay’, from some articles Puck has found.” Kurt nods to himself a little. “I’ve known for a very long time. Puck told me during sophomore year. I didn’t tell him until junior year.” Kurt smiles at Finn, and Finn tentatively returns it. “We didn’t get together until— the night Johnson said he wasn’t running again. We kissed.” Kurt shrugs. “That was it.”

“That’s why Puck never stayed with a girl very long?” Finn squints. “What about Lauren? Does _she_ know?”

“No.” Kurt shakes his head. “But Lauren, for whatever reason, wants the same kind of relationship that Puck does. Nothing too physical.”

“And that’s why Rachel,” Finn says slowly. “You knew from the beginning she’d go East for college. And yeah, there’s less people getting engaged before graduation every year now, but at the beginning of sophomore year, how could we have known that?”

“Are there?” Kurt says, surprised. “I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot less, I guess.” Finn shrugs. “It’s kind of nice. Not expecting us to commit just because we finished school, right?” 

“Yes,” Kurt says wryly. “But yes, that’s why Rachel.” 

Finn nods. “Just tell me when you need me to clear out for an afternoon or an evening, okay?”

“Okay,” Kurt manages to respond, surprised, after a few moments. 

“I should tell Puck, too,” Finn says, looking almost determined. “I’m going to call him.” Finn gets up and strides towards the telephone extension in the basement, and Kurt watches, wide-eyed, as Finn dials. 

“Hey, Mrs. Puckerman, it’s Finn. Is Puck there?” There’s a very slight pause before Finn says “Thanks!” followed by a longer one. “Hey, man.”

Kurt can’t quite hear Puck, and he thinks that somehow he should have warned Puck, though he can’t imagine how that would have happened. 

“So I kind of forgot my jacket yesterday afternoon, but I already talked to Kurt and everything’s good. I told Kurt just to let me know when you guys need an afternoon or an evening.”

There’s a long silence before Kurt can hear Puck spluttering, like he’s not sure what to say, and Kurt fully understands that, so he finally gets off the bed and walks towards Finn, standing on his tiptoes to speak into the phone as Finn holds it. 

“He means it, Puck. Everything’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

Finn talks to Puck for a few more moments before hanging up the phone and coming back over the Kurt. “What about next year?”

“What about it?”

“Puck always says he’s leaving, and you’ve been applying to OSU and Kent State.” 

Kurt sighs. “Don’t mention it to _anyone_ , but I’ve also applied to two schools out of state. I’ve already gotten an acceptance letter to one of them.” 

Finn’s eyes get wide. “You’re going with him.” 

“We’re going together, technically.” Kurt grins. “I do own half of the Microbus.” 

 

The advantage to Finn knowing is that at least Kurt and Puck have a few more minutes alone each week than they did before, and with rehearsal for the regional competition increasing, Kurt does appreciate that. There’s still a great deal of tension in the hallways about Sam and Mercedes, who don’t even touch each other at school, except to hold hands in the chorus room at times. 

For reasons Kurt doesn’t quite understand, the regional competition is scheduled for a Friday, instead of a Saturday, which does give all of them a break from the tension in the hallways. Kurt watches, almost fascinated, as Finn disengages from Quinn before getting on the bus, and by the time Kurt chooses a seat, the seating is clearly boys in the back, girls near the front, and Puck sits down beside him. Kurt waits a few moments before turning around to shoot Finn a smile, and Finn grins before turning back to his conversation with Mike. 

“Not much longer,” Puck says in a whisper when they’re about halfway to the venue. “For anything.”

“No.” Kurt smiles a little at the thought. They have an extraordinary amount of planning done, but Kurt knows they still have to finish the year, and they still have to act as though they aren’t leaving over the summer, at least for a bit longer, but somehow Kurt’s thought of their regional competition as the beginning of the end, so close to the end of March and the Easter break. 

Soon after they arrive, Mr. Schuester announces that they’ll be the first group performing, and the nineteen of them file onto the risers, taking deep breaths. Kurt likes the idea for their set list—it’s whimsical and fun—but he hopes that the judges like it as well. 

The boys begin with ‘Bella Notte’, from _Lady and the Tramp_ , though Kurt always thinks it sounds like a song that could have been in a movie that wasn’t animated. 

_Side by side_  
 _with your loved one_  
 _you’ll find enchantment here_  
 _the night will weave its magic spell_  
 _when the one you love is near_

It’s a good opening number, both for the group and the competition as a whole, and Kurt thinks the transition to the girls number isn’t too abrupt. They’re all confident that no other group is going to sing ‘Let’s Go Out to the Lobby’. 

_Delicious things to eat;_  
 _The popcorn can’t be beat._  
 _The sparkling drinks are just dandy;_  
 _The chocolate bars and nut candy._  
 _So let’s all go to the lobby_  
 _To get ourselves a treat._

There’s a low giggle from most of the audience, several people grinning at them, and the girls themselves look amused as they finish. Their final song had been the subject of much debate. It had to be from a movie, and they had discussed ‘Singing in the Rain’, ‘My Favorite Things’, ‘The Rain in Spain’, ‘Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off’, and ‘Good Morning’ over the course of two weeks. Slowly, songs had been eliminated for various reasons, until they settled on one that all of the chorus could sing and have part of the melody at some point during the song. Finally, they had agreed on ‘Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off’ and divided it up between the various parts. 

_You like potato and I like potahto,_  
 _You like tomato and I like tomahto;_  
 _Potato, potahto, tomato, tomahto!_  
 _Let’s call the whole thing off!_

After the boys sing the first part of the chorus, the girls join them to finish it. 

_But oh! If we call the whole thing off,_  
 _Then we must part._  
 _And oh! If we ever part,_  
 _Then that might break my heart!_

It wasn’t Kurt’s first choice, but in the end, he can see why it was a good one, the audience clearly enjoying their performance, and Kurt finds he’s strangely not nervous as they watch the other groups perform. Of course, he can also acknowledge that might be because they are in the back row of their group, he’s on the end next to the wall, Puck is next to him, and Finn is on Puck’s other side, blocking them well from view. It isn’t much, and it’s foolish, but Kurt still takes Puck’s hand briefly, and then squeezes it once more before they go back on stage for the presentation of awards. 

Kurt starts to tune out what he hears until the very end, when the announcer almost screams, Bandstand-style, “McKinley High School is going to Chicago!” Kurt gives everyone a hug as they celebrate another win at the regional competition, and before they are on the bus home, Kurt can hear Rachel and a few others talking to Mr. Schuester about ideas for their set in Chicago. 

 

April passes almost without incident. Chorus is consumed with plans for Chicago, and after the Easter break, they agree on a set list designed to push the envelope. 

“Are you sure you want to take this tone?” Mr. Schuester asks them, looking at the three titles on the blackboard. 

“Mr. Schuester, we may be on different sides about the necessity of the war in Vietnam,” Quinn says precisely, “but we’re all agreed when it comes to the civil rights question, and I think that’s clear from our choices. If you are also behind us, that is.”

Mr. Schuester breaks into a grin. “We may face some pushback, but I like the attitude and the sentiment. We’ll do it.” 

The other plans made during April are for prom, at the beginning of May, and Kurt and Puck quietly discuss their upcoming birthdays. 

“Ten days after prom,” Puck says one evening. “Guess I’ll go that day or the next down to the draft board.”

“What are you going to do?” Kurt asks. 

“Whatever it takes.” Puck rolls over on Kurt’s bed, propping his chin in his hands. “What about you?”

“Are we leaving before or after the twenty-sixth of June?” Kurt asks pointedly. “Obviously I probably have until July first before they realize I am not showing up.”

“You should celebrate your birthday with your dad and everyone,” Puck says. “It’s a Thursday, right? We can leave on Friday night. It’ll be later on Saturday before anyone knows you’re gone, that way.” 

“I suppose so.” Kurt sighs. “Did you find anyone to take to prom?”

“Santana.” Puck shrugs. “I don’t know why Lauren decided _now_ to end things. Maybe she was afraid _I_ took it too seriously?” He laughs. “Is anyone in chorus doing the ring thing? Half the football team is, still.”

“Didn’t Mike say he wouldn’t because Tina’s still got another year?” Kurt purses his lips. “And Mercedes is graduating, but Sam has another year. Artie and Brittany have another year.” Kurt shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all escaping without a ring purchase, even Finn.”

“Escaping!” Puck laughs. “They might not look at it the same way.”

“It’s still a lot of money!” Kurt argues, joining Puck’s laughter after a moment. 

Despite Finn’s statement that fewer people are getting engaged during or right after high school, one of the first songs Kurt hears as he escorts Rachel into prom is still ‘Chapel of Love’. 

“Oh dear,” Rachel says with a little giggle. “I supposed one of the newly-engaged girls requested that one.”

“No doubt,” Kurt agrees, though the transition into ‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’ is an odd one. 

“Ooh, Petula Clark!” Rachel says excitedly when they’re sitting down thirty minutes later, drinking watery punch. “We have to dance to this one, Kurt. ‘I know a place!’”

Kurt laughs a little, shaking his head as he stands up and follows her onto the floor. Sometimes when he and Puck are feeling down, they play ‘I Know A Place’, followed by every song about San Francisco or California that either of them owns. 

The last song of the evening that Kurt and Rachel dance to or hear is the Grass Roots, and Kurt smiles over Rachel’s shoulder at Puck as they dance, and Puck mouths the words along with the music. 

“We’ll take the most from living, have pleasure while we can,” Puck mouths, spinning around with Santana and then continuing, Santana oblivious, “And don’t worry ’bout tomorrow.”

Kurt takes Rachel home and then joins the other boys from chorus who are seniors in his and Finn’s room, where a few bottles of beer appear and everyone talks too fast about the rest of the school year, the national competition, and graduation. They fall asleep one by one, until Kurt is perched on his bed, surveying them. Finn on his bed, snoring lightly, no doubt a by-product of his beer consumption; Mike and Matt on the couch, leaning against each other to stay somewhat upright; and Puck, slumped on the floor against Kurt’s bed, one hand reaching above his head. Kurt picks up the last beer bottle and finishes the few ounces remaining in it, then sets it in the floor and falls back onto his own pillow. 

Eleven days after prom, the day after Puck’s birthday, he goes after school to the draft board, and Kurt goes to chorus rehearsal and tries to pretend like he, too, doesn’t know where Puck is going. Most of the group has assumed that Puck would simply not appear before the draft board, but Kurt knows that Puck plans to graduate, and plans to go to Chicago, which means he has to at least appear. 

The phone rings that evening at home, and Burt picks up, talking to someone he knows, his eyes growing wide, and after he hangs up, he pulls Carole aside, the two of them whispering in low voices in the kitchen while Kurt and Finn continue to sit in front of the television in the living room. There’s the sound of more telephone calls being made, and some ringing interspersed, but Burt and Carole don’t come out of the kitchen, and they don’t tell Finn or Kurt what exactly is happening, until the next morning. 

“Kurt, Finn, I have something to tell you,” Burt says gravely over breakfast. “The news spread pretty fast, so probably you’ll hear about it at school. Your friend, Puckerman, went before the draft board yesterday, as he should have, but boys, he claimed 4F status.” Burt pauses, as if that should surprise either Finn or Kurt. “He admitted to being a homosexual, and even admitted to engaging in homosexual acts in the past. He was knowledgeable enough that none of the men on the board thought it was just an attempt to be classified 4F. Now, I know the three of you are in chorus together, though if Schuester is smart, he’ll quietly ask Puckerman to leave. Other than class and chorus, though, I don’t want you two to associate with him. He’s not welcome in this house.” 

Kurt can feel his jaw drop open. They’re so close, but it’s still more than a month, and now his dad says he can’t even be around Puck outside school? Finn looks similarly stunned, and Burt must interpret their responses as surprise at Puck’s actions and claims. 

“I know it’s hard to understand,” he says sympathetically. “I never thought we had any of those here in Lima.” He stands up and grabs his lunch from the counter. “See you boys at dinner.”

“Kurt, what are you going to do?” Finn says quietly after the door closes. 

“I don’t know.” Kurt shakes his head. “We still have so much to do. Remember I told you that Puck’s mom wanted to have a tag sale next month? I was going to send over a lot of my things and get us more money that way, help him do that. And after school is over, it’s—” Kurt breaks off, sighing deeply. “I don’t know.”

“Mom won’t care if I hang out with him at Kewpee or whatever, I bet,” Finn says after a few minutes of silence. “I can take stuff to him when you’re packing or whatever. Okay?”

Kurt nods slowly. “Okay.”

There are, in fact, a lot of whispers in the hallways and classrooms, and by the time chorus rehearsal starts, Kurt is mentally bracing himself. This isn’t like Sam and Mercedes, where at least chorus was supportive. This is different, and having Finn’s support is one more person than Kurt ever expected. 

Puck is sitting in the front of the room, smirking down at his guitar, and when Mr. Schuester enters, he nods at Puck. “You have something to play?”

“Yep.” Puck tunes his guitar a final time and smiles without much humor at Mr. Schuester. “Little song by Phil Ochs.” As he starts to play, singing the first verse, Kurt has to stifle a laugh, and when Puck reaches the chorus, it’s even harder. 

_Sarge, I’m only eighteen, I got a ruptured spleen_  
 _And I always carry a purse_  
 _I got eyes like a bat, and my feet are flat, and my asthma’s getting worse_  
 _Yes, think of my career, my sweetheart dear, and my poor old invalid aunt_  
 _Besides, I ain’t no fool, I’m a-goin’ to school_  
 _And I’m working in a DEE-fense plant_

As Puck finishes, Kurt can see Tina frown. “So you would have said anything, to get out of the draft? Why that?”

Puck smirks in her direction, and as he stands, he plays a bar again, then starts singing softly. “And I always carry a purse.” He stops and smirks again, sitting down in the back row, and the room is silent until Mr. Schuester directs them to start rehearsing. 

It’s a Friday, when Puck and Kurt only see each other if there’s a group date planned. This week, Rachel wanted to see the new Paul Newman inside a theatre, not at the drive-in, and Kurt finds himself at the cinema waiting for the movie to start. 

“I can’t believe he would _confirm_ such a thing,” Rachel says in a whisper to Kurt while they wait. “That’s almost what he was doing!” 

“Mmm.” Kurt takes a bite of popcorn and wishes the movie would begin more quickly. “It’s not like he told the entire school.” 

“But surely he didn’t expect the chorus to be in support?” Rachel queries, shaking her head. “It’s not like Sam and Mercedes.”

“How ironic of you to be unsupportive,” Kurt whispers under his breath, and he suddenly wonders if somehow, Rachel herself is unaware of the rumors about her own father. 

“I don’t know what Mr. Schuester will do about the hotel arrangements in Chicago!” Rachel says. 

“I suspect they will be similar to last year’s, with two additional rooms or additional people in each room,” Kurt points out. 

“But what about Puck?”

“Finn and I will be fine,” Kurt says calmly. “And Mr. Schuester was in our room, remember?”

“You can’t _associate_ with him, Kurt! What people are going to think! I’m sure Quinn is talking to Finn about it right now.” 

“I’ll associate with whom I please, but you and my father are welcome to discuss how I shouldn’t,” Kurt says dryly, and Rachel gives him a wounded look just as the lights dim. When the movie ends, she leaves the topic dropped, mercifully. 

The week between Puck’s performance and Chicago is tense, more inside the chorus room than outside it, and Kurt stays away from home as much as he can. He and Burt argue after the news almost every night, because of the war in Vietnam, and being at home in the basement tends to remind him that Puck isn’t allowed there. Kurt doesn’t even try to call Puck, not once Burt and Carole are home for the evening, and two days before the bus leaves for Chicago, Kurt writes out a note to slip into Puck’s hand or bag once they’re all aboard. He doesn’t sign it, but Puck does know his handwriting. Kurt sighs and folds it over twice, and goes back to packing his own bags. 

“So when…” Finn starts to ask, trailing off as he sits on his bed. 

“When what?”

“When are you and Rachel breaking up?”

Kurt shrugs. “I assumed I would take her to that graduation party, and then we’d go our separate ways. I already told her I was planning to work a great deal this summer. It’s not completely untrue.” 

“Yeah, that’s true.” Finn sighs. “Has anyone said anything to you?”

Kurt shakes his head. “It’s just another few weeks. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, I hope so. You’re going to call me, right? After you leave? Or send me a letter?” 

“We’ll figure out some way to stay in touch,” Kurt promises. “Something.”

 

The just–over five hour bus trip culminates as Kurt expects, more or less, though all three of the underclassmen who are boys go into the room where Puck is not, while the two underclassmen girls are divided between the two girls’ rooms. Mr. Schuester looks uncomfortably at all of them when they get to the room, and Finn turns towards him to firmly say, “Everything’s fine in here.” 

Kurt isn’t really sure how Mr. Schuester interprets that, but regardless, nothing more is said, and when Kurt overhears some of the others talking about how Puck has to sleep in the floor, Mr. Schuester doesn’t correct them. Kurt doesn’t know what it means, and in the end, doesn’t care, as long as it gets them through the national competition. 

Somehow, everyone puts their concerns, valid or not, about Puck’s homosexuality aside for a final rehearsal, and again before their performance. 

“You’re taking a risk, and you know that,” Mr. Schuester says, looking rather proud of them. “I would tell you good luck, or break a leg, but you don’t need it.”

“We’re making a stand in Chicago,” Tina says, nodding. “It’s poetic.” 

It means they’ll either do very well or very poorly in the judging, Kurt suspects, and they head to the stage just moments later. Kurt takes a deep breath as the music for ‘Abraham, Martin, and John’ begins, and Quinn leads a group of the underclassmen on the first verse. 

_Has anybody here seen my old friend Abraham?_  
 _Can you tell me where he’s gone?_  
 _He freed a lot of people,_  
 _But it seems the good they die young._  
 _You know, I just looked around and he’s gone_

The lights shift, as Mr. Schuester had hoped could happen, to focus on the remaining underclassman, along with Rachel, Mike, Artie, and Santana. 

_Anybody here seen my old friend John?_  
 _Can you tell me where he’s gone?_  
 _He freed a lot of people,_  
 _But it seems the good they die young._  
 _I just looked around and he’s gone._

Another shift, back to stage right, bringing Matt, Sam, Mercedes, Brittany, and Tina to everyone’s attention. 

_Anybody here seen my old friend Martin?_  
 _Can you tell me where he’s gone?_  
 _He freed a lot of people,_  
 _But it seems the good they die young._  
 _I just looked ’round and he’s gone._

The lights come up on all of them for the next four lines, all nineteen of them blending their voices easily. 

_Didn’t you love the things that they stood for?_  
 _Didn’t they try to find some good for you and me?_  
 _And we’ll be free_  
 _Some day soon, and it’s a-gonna be one day …_

The lights go out almost abruptly, and only Lauren, Finn, Puck, and Kurt are in the lighted portion as they end the song. 

_Anybody here seen my old friend Bobby?_  
 _Can you tell me where he’s gone?_  
 _I thought I saw him walkin’ up over the hill,_  
 _With Abraham, Martin and John._

The entire auditorium is silent for just a few beats before the applause starts, and then the first notes of ‘For What It’s Worth’ start, and the boys take the first verse. 

_There’s something happening here_  
 _But what it is ain’t exactly clear_  
 _There’s a man with a gun over there_  
 _Telling me I got to beware_

They alternate verses between the boys and the girls until the end, joining together for the final repetitions of the chorus. 

_We better stop_  
 _Hey, what’s that sound?_  
 _Everybody look – what’s going down?_

To end it, they go into ‘Turn! Turn! Turn!’, everyone singing, melody and harmony switching between the girls and the boys at a few points, until they all sing the melody together on the last lines. 

_A time to gain, a time to lose_  
 _A time to rend, a time to sew_  
 _A time for love, a time for hate_  
 _A time for peace, I swear it’s not too late_

The applause starts almost immediately, and continues longer than Kurt had dared to hope, still going as they file back to their seats and the next group prepares to perform. This venue, Puck is on the end of the row, and Kurt knows it’s now far too risky to take Puck’s hand. Still, Kurt’s at least beside him, and he knows from the look on Rachel’s face that there’s going to be an argument between the two of them. He just needs for it to wait a little longer. 

At the end of the day, they’re named to the top ten, and the next day, they perform a final time before being named, against the odds, the winners of the 1969 National Chorus Competition. Kurt feels a bit lightheaded as they cheer and hoist the trophy; their set list, their racially mixed composition, and other factors had made Kurt feel the judges would be against them, but he’s never been happier to be proved wrong. The nineteen of them return to McKinley, triumphant, for part of Friday’s classes. 

“One more week!” someone shouts joyously, and Kurt feels like he’s going to split his face from grinning. Just one more week of school. 

 

Kurt holds off the confrontation with Rachel until the Thursday afternoon of the last week of classes, just two days before graduation. 

“Let’s go get a milkshake,” she says to Kurt as classes end, and Kurt sighs as he acquiesces. They don’t make it to anywhere with milkshakes, however, before Rachel starts gesturing and talking in an ever increasing volume. “Were you really at Kewpee yesterday evening?”

“I was,” Kurt agrees. 

“And Puck was there! Kurt, we _talked_ about this! You can’t associate with him, not now. Not when practically the entire town knows what he is!”

“He’s the exact same thing as your father, but at least he’s not going to make any women miserable!” Kurt blurts out. 

“Kurt Hummel!” Rachel looks at him, her lip wobbling, and she starts to cry. “That was horrible to say.”

Kurt sighs and hands her a handkerchief as he parks. “I’m not going to stop being seen with my friend because my high school girlfriend is afraid of what someone will say about me or her.”

Rachel sniffles into the handkerchief, then blows her nose. “And what about when high school is over?”

“Rachel, you’re going to college in the fall. You can’t tell me you thought this would last any longer.”

“Not now,” Rachel agrees. “I thought, sometimes, that after college, if we were back in Lima, both of us—”

“No,” Kurt interrupts her, because he can’t let her hold onto that idea. “That won’t happen. I won’t be coming back to Lima.”

“You’re not going that far!” Rachel protests. “Though if you keep being seen with Puck, then I— Kurt!”

“What?”

“Kurt, no, you’re not—” Rachel breaks off again, then scrambles for the door handle. “I’ll call my mom or dad,” she says. “I won’t tell anyone, Kurt, I promise, but I can’t do this, not now.” 

Before Kurt can formulate any sort of response, Rachel is out of the car, slamming the door shut before running towards the drugstore pay phone. Kurt sighs and gets out, getting a milkshake regardless before heading home. 

His dad thinks that he’s going through his things in preparation for deciding what to take for college, and since Kurt is going through things to decide what to take, period, he feels that it’s close enough. His record collection has been slowly migrating to Puck’s via Finn, along with notes between the two of them that Kurt burns when he’s alone, with his father’s lighter. Most of his clothes have been divided between those he’ll take and those to go into the tag sale Puck and his mother are going to have, and a very few have been set aside for the few days before Kurt and Puck leave, because Kurt hasn’t decided if dirty laundry is something he wants to take or not. 

On the day Kurt graduates from high school, his room is much less full than it appears, and he spends the next week and a half working almost non-stop. Oddly enough, Burt chalks it up to his and Rachel’s split, and Kurt asks Burt on the day before Kurt’s birthday if Burt will pay him on Friday afternoon, so he can combine it with any birthday money. 

Kurt’s birthday is one day he doesn’t work. He meets Puck in a parking lot near American Mall and they take the Microbus outside of town for lunch, then a movie, before heading back to Lima. Kurt curls against Puck’s side, closing his eyes. 

“I can’t believe how long it’s been.” 

“Me either,” Puck admits. “I have all our cash, though, including the tag sale profits, and most of the stuff packed. My mom knows I’m leaving. I think she’s figured out that it’s not just me, too, but I don’t know if she’s put all of it together.”

“Hmm. Maybe, maybe not.” Kurt takes a long breath. “It doesn’t matter.” He threads his fingers through Puck’s, then runs his other hand through Puck’s hair. “How many dress code violations did you get that last week at school?”

Puck laughs. “So many that I heard Principal Figgins told the teachers not to bother writing me up anymore.”

“It’ll be fun to see what it looks like in another month or two.”

“And what about you?” Puck says. “I think you’d get written up now.”

“I did!” Kurt laughs. “Or I almost did, as I was leaving on the last day of school. Once the teacher realized I was a senior, she didn’t write me up. My dad’s been asking me about a haircut every other day or so. I may have told him I’d think about it today.” Kurt shakes his head. “You like it?”

“Yeah, I do,” Puck says, and his hands slide through Kurt’s barely too long hair. 

“You know, we’re leaving tomorrow,” Kurt says. “Very late tomorrow, but still tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“Who cares if someone in the American Mall parking lot sees us kissing?” Kurt points out, hardly believing what he’s saying. 

Puck laughs. “Good point,” he whispers, and that is in fact the last thing either of them say for some time, their lips parting for each other, and Kurt feels like they’re trying to climb into the same space, occupy the same air, and in fact, when they pull apart, there is a woman gaping at them from under a nearby tree. 

“Time to go, I guess,” Puck says, and Kurt nods. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Yeah. I’ll answer the telephone. You have anything left to take, besides the one bag you mentioned?”

“Two albums, anything I get tonight, and the last bag,” Kurt confirms. “Finn already said he’d bring the albums and my gifts by tomorrow.” 

“Right.” Puck kisses Kurt a final time, and Kurt waves almost cheerily at the woman watching as he climbs into the car he’s currently using from the shop. 

His birthday dinner is quiet and calm, and no one watches the evening news or mentions the war in Vietnam or even Kurt’s hair. No one mentions the draft board, either, and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief after they have cake and he opens his presents. Cash, from Burt and Carole as well as Finn, and Kurt puts it in an otherwise nearly–empty drawer in his dresser. 

“I have a few errands to run later,” Kurt mentions to Burt at lunchtime the next day. He knows the albums are at Puck’s now, but Kurt needs to empty out his bank accounts. “Could I get paid and then leave at three?”

“Sure,” Burt says, and Kurt can tell he thinks that Kurt is going to the draft board, or perhaps to get a haircut. Kurt empties his bank accounts, then buys a pack of postcards and a booklet of postcard stamps, so they can send them to Finn. He arrives home before his father and realizes that the laundry has been done, so he carefully packs his last bag and puts it beside his bed, taking a few moments to look around the room that he’ll be leaving forever before too much longer. 

Before he can get too maudlin or too excited, Kurt hears Burt entering the house, talking to Carole in the kitchen, and a few moments later, Finn’s voice joins them, so Kurt heads upstairs. 

Burt gives him a slightly surprised glance, likely thinking Kurt had planned to get a haircut, but he doesn’t mention it during dinner, nor when they inevitably squabble during the evening news. Finally, Burt and Carole head to bed, and if Kurt watches them with an especially wistful ‘good night’, neither of them notice. 

“Are you excited?” Finn asks as soon as the basement door is shut, and Kurt nods. 

“I am.” He looks in all the drawers and the closet a final time, a way to keep himself busy. “There’s a box of books in here, that I didn’t think we should take now, but I couldn’t bring myself to sell them. Maybe once we have a place, you could mail them?”

“Yeah, sure,” Finn agrees. “I’ll keep an eye on your dad, you know.”

“I know.” Kurt sits down on his bed almost gingerly, picking up his pillow and setting it on top of his bag as well. “I mentioned twice that I would sleep in in the morning.” Kurt chews on his lip. “We’re hoping to get ten hours before Dad realizes, but I know it might just be eight or so.”

Finn nods. “I’ll do my best.” He stands up and walks to the foot of the stairs. “I’m going to go get a sandwich. I am hungry, and if Mom’s awake, she’ll yell.”

Kurt laughs, listening to Finn climb the stairs, and he does another circuit of the room. He’ll miss his room and his stepbrother, and he’ll miss his dad, but he won’t miss Lima, nor most of the rest of the people he’s come to know, not really. They’ll make new friends, friends from whom they won’t have to hide, and Puck will be with him. Kurt pats the outer pocket of his bag, where the postcards and stamps are, and then hears Finn come down the stairs. 

“No noise at all,” he reports.

“Okay.” Kurt nods and heads upstairs, very quietly dialing Puck’s number. He answers on the first ring. 

“Kurt?”

Kurt stifles a laugh. “Time to go.” 

“I’m ready,” Puck says, then hangs up, and Kurt hangs up the receiver quietly before creeping back down stairs. 

“You can’t leave without a hug,” Finn insists. “I already gave Puck his best friend hug earlier. Now you get your brother hug.” 

“Got it,” Kurt agrees, hugging Finn and trying to memorize how he looks and smell. “You’re a great big brother.”

“Thanks.” Finn grins and picks up Kurt’s bag, handing it and the pillow to him. “Are you going out the little window down here or out the door up there?”

“Back door. It’s the farthest from their bedroom, and I can wait on the side of the house until I hear the Microbus.”

Finn nods and picks up his plate, following Kurt quietly up the stairs. “I’ll lock the door behind you.”

“Thanks.” Kurt looks over his shoulder once before the door closes, then he slips around the side of the house. He doesn’t have to wait long before he does hear Puck, and he walks to the road, opening the door and tossing in his bag and pillow before sliding over and kissing Puck. “Time to go!”

Puck kisses back, laughing. “I’m ready if you are.”

“Definitely ready,” Kurt agrees. “Good-bye, Lima, and good-bye Ohio.” 

“Still want to hit Route 66?”

“We’ll get our kicks on Route 66,” Kurt quips, feeling almost giddy. 

“Except I still say we see Las Vegas, if we can,” Puck says. 

“Okay. Then onward.”

“If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair?”

“Exactly.” Kurt grins. “US–30 to Chicago, then.” 

Puck leans over at a stop sign and kisses Kurt again, and he drives on with one hand tangled with Kurt’s. “Elida Road right now, some time next month, San Francisco.”

 

_What neither Puck nor I could have known was that just hours after we left Lima behind for good, there were other gay people in the United States taking even bigger action: the Stonewall riots in New York City raged while we drove across Indiana and into Illinois, making our way slowly across the country. We stopped when we found a place to work for a few days, adding to our stored cash, and we sent Finn postcards every week or so. In the end, we pulled up in San Francisco in late August._

_We looked nothing like the people we had been in Lima, and for the first time, we walked hand in hand down a public street. Puck found a job, I enrolled in college, and we joined the rapidly growing gay rights movement._

_We built a life in San Francisco, in California, and we met amazing people and saw amazing things. Just like 1968 had been an incredible roller coaster of a year for the entire country, San Francisco had its own ups and downs, especially in the gay community, all within just a few short years._

_We have our life together. We travel, take vacations, keep in touch with Finn, and continue to do many of the things we enjoyed before we became California residents. Sometimes I go see a musical without Puck, or he goes to a football game at Candlestick without me, and sometimes we do join each other. One thing remains constant, besides each other._

_Since the night of June 27, 1969, by our own choice and without regret, we’ve never set foot in the state of Ohio._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While many of the events of the 1960s are widely known, I utilized many different sources to check facts and get the best feel for the times. A list of the documentaries, books, and websites I reviewed prior to and while writing can be found [here](https://docs.google.com/document/d/10E7NUhQ024LsvGbd45V7ieuO7vtFEI9r42l3oIZCSPA/pub).


End file.
